


Welcome to the Supernatural DWMA

by GypsyReaper



Category: Soul Eater AU - Fandom, Supernatural, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Death Weapon Meister Academy, Demons, Destiel - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, High School, Humor, Hunters & Hunting, Kishin-eggs, M/M, Megstiel - Freeform, Meisters, Night Vale, Sabriel - Freeform, Soul Eater - Freeform, Soul Eater AU, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, Weapons, Welcome to Night Vale - Freeform, meister!Dean, supernatural monsters, weapon!Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 129,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyReaper/pseuds/GypsyReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to Night Vale X Supernatural X Soul Eater AU. 16 year-old Dean Winchester is a hunter accepted into the DWMA to be a meister. Castiel Novak is a rare Angel Blade weapon. What exactly would happen if Supernatural characters were thrust into the world of kishin-eggs and monsters? Drama, romance, hilarity, and sarcasm abound!</p>
<p>*Careful, there might be some fic spoilers in the comments!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Orientation Day

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a Supernatural Soul Eater AU, with some Welcome to Night Vale and other fandoms thrown in for fun. Almost all of the characters and situations are based on Supernatural seasons 1-5. Also, I am leaving it up the readers if this is going to become an eventual Destiel and or Sabriel. (Considering my two betas are my boyfriend and his best friend I didn’t want to scar them that badly so I’m using ya’ll as an excuse. :D) Just say if you want these ships in your reviews! This will be a long story, but it’s worth it, I promise!
> 
> Also, shout out to bluesilktie.tumblr.com, they did the original artwork that lit the fuse for this piece! http://bluesilktie.tumblr.com/tagged/spn-fan-art

_Just relax,_ Castiel reminded himself. _Just let go, and relax, This is it. This is the one._

Hands gripped tightly around his body, and he forced himself to go limp. Instead of feeling supported, he heard a sharp cry of pain, and he was freefalling. Castiel’s weapon form hit the ground hard, and he reverted from his Angel Blade body back to his lithe teenage self, lying on his back and rubbing the back of his head. 

He looked up at the girl meister who had tried to wield him, and she hissed in pain. He could see the bright pink line across her palms. Another student who has gotten burned upon touching my weapon form. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his lanky and short teenage body a jarring visage to the deep, gruff, stoic voice he spoke with, as though he was many centuries old. 

“S’alright,” the girl muttered, but she quickly walked away, leaving him alone. 

Orientation Day at the DWMA was supposed to be a day of trial and error as people found their partners, but Castiel had hurt seven students so far. Word had spread quickly, and no one was even coming over to say hi, never mind try to their luck at wielding him. He knew that being a rare Angel Blade weapon might cause him grief, but now he was starting to lose faith anyone would ever be able to wield him. 

He lay on the cold stone for a moment, and let the chatter of the other students wash over him. For a few moments he soaked up the sun, until a black shadow dimmed it. Opening his eyes, he saw another student, a boy about his age, looking at him. “You just gonna lay around all day?” the boy asked. 

Castiel shrugged. “Seems like an appropriate response to rejection.” 

The boy held out a hand, offering to help him up. “Come on, you aren’t going to find your Meister down there, I promise.” 

Castiel stared at the boy for so long the newcomer’s hand began to falter under the blue gaze. 

Eventually, the weapon took the hand, and was surprised how strong the boy was as he was lifted up almost effortlessly. 

“Dean Winchester,” the boy said, shaking Castiel’s hand. He wore boots, blue jeans, a plain t-shirt. His brown hair was short and spiked up, and he was a few inches taller than Castiel.

“Castiel Novak.” The weapon was lean with ruffled brown hair and intense blue eyes. He was shorter and lighter than Dean, and wore slacks plus a buttoned down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. 

“Castiel, huh? Mind if I call you Cas instead?” 

Castiel thought for a moment and then shook his head. “Cas is fine.” 

“Awesome. Well, Cas, why don’t we check out the food table. I’m starving, and they’ve got a killer pie collection.” 

“Killer pie sounds like something we should stay far away from,” Cas said. 

Dean gave him a look, but then chuckled. “Oh, you’re a literal type of guy, huh? Fun times.” 

Castiel was confused by Dean’s slang, but followed him over the food table anyway, where it was actually empty. Most students had found their partners and were getting to know each other. 

They moved to an empty corner of the outdoor patio, Dean with a plate full of hamburger and apple pie, while Castiel munched quietly on celery sticks. Dean laughed at his “rabbit food,” but Castiel simply kept munching. 

“So, no one had claimed you for their own yet, huh?” Dean asked, trying to make small talk around bites of meat and bread. Castiel looked at him, then averted his eyes. “No. Everyone who has attempted to wield me has gotten burned.” 

Dean eyes widened in surprise. “Seriously? That seems a little like overkill.”

Castiel shrugged. “I’m an Angel Blade. We’re very…finicky…about who wields us.” He watched Dean for a moment, then quickly swiped a French fry from the bigger boy’s plate, making him growl. “Since you are sitting here with me, I’m going to assume you haven’t found a suitable partner either?”

Dean swallowed and shook his head. “Not so far. I was hoping a cute girl would be my partner but, so far, no dice. Everyone says my grip’s too strong, and my callouses hurt them. Bunch of pansies, all of them.” 

“Callouses?” Castiel asked curiously, and Dean turned up his palm to show that, indeed he had many rough patches on his hands. “What are those from?”

“Guns and knives, mostly,” Dean answered nonchalantly. 

“Guns and knives,” Castiel repeated, arching an eyebrow. 

“I come from a family of Hunters,” Dean explained. “My mom and dad are Hunters, and brought up me and my little sister as such too. We hunt monsters, the good old-fashioned way.” 

Most of the time, people didn’t believe Dean when he said that, but Castiel simply took everything in stride. “That sounds interesting. Must be very dangerous work.” 

“Very. Almost died a few times in my life. But, what can I say? Saving people, hunting things, it’s the family business.” 

“Any meisters in your family?”

“Nope. Actually, I’m the first one,” Dean said, chest swelling with pride. “This will give me a big edge over those vampires and werewolves we’re always going after.” 

“As soon as you find a suitable partner, you mean?” Castiel reminded him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean finished up his lunch and started looking around at the other students milling about, trying to figure out which one he could go to next. “Should probably get back to that.” 

Dean tossed his trash, and shoved his hands in his jean pockets, clearly unsure where to start next. 

Castiel stood by him, looking over the crowd without any look of intention on his face. 

“Dean, I have an idea,” Cas said, trailing off. 

After a moment of silence, Castiel turned his bright, unwavering stare on the taller boy.

“Okay, go on,” Dean waved him to continue. 

“Right. Well…since I haven’t been able to find a partner, and you haven’t been able to find a partner, why don’t we give it a try together?”

Dean looked at the boy, then laughed. “Dude, you’re not exactly my type. I was hoping for a  
more…cute…partner. Maybe with freckles and glasses.” When Cas continued to give him an unclear look, Dean sighed. "Ya know, one of the more _female_ persuasion.” 

“Neither of us is in a position to be picky,” Castiel pointed out, much to Dean’s annoyance. 

Castiel very slowly looked Dean up and down, making him feel a little self-conscience. It was like Cas was seeing right through him, like he was looking at his very soul. _Hell, maybe he is._

“Alright, fine, let’s give it a try,” Dean said, and clapped him on the shoulder, a smile spreading over his face. “I mean, after all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could drop me and have your hands burned,” Castiel said stoically. Dean’s charming smile wavered slightly, but he just chuckled. “You certainly have a way with words, Cas.” 

“Just try not to drop me,” Castiel said, and he closed his eyes. He could feel the magic coursing through him, and felt his body change into the blade. Just relax, he reminded himself, and he felt the strong grip surround his body, just like before. But this time there was no exclamation of pain, or the sensation of freefalling. Instead, he was being held aloft as though he was as light as a feather. 

He looked up from the shining blade to see Dean, holding him, looking just as surprised as Castiel felt.

“Oh, come on! Seriously? A silver stake? I was expecting something a lot….heavier,” he said, although impressive was what he really thought. After a moment, a panicked look came over him. “Wait, wait! No cute girl, no freckles, no glasses? I got gypped on this whole partner deal.”

Castiel couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt at Dean’s outburst. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off. Suddenly standing before them was a man in a black business suit and red hair. It was Spirit Alban, the current Death Scythe. He grinned at them. “Congratulations, boys. You’re now partners!” 

After a moment, Dean looked at the blade, at Castiel’s reflection, and sighed. “Well, this is unexpected,” the hunter murmured in annoyance.


	2. Dean Phones Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thanks for taking the time to read this. I'm really excited for people to read this and (hopefully) love it! I'm thinking it's going to be an eventual Destiel and maybe Sabriel too. However, please let me know in the comments if you want the story to go in that direction. Anyways, enjoy!

The phone rang a couple times before it was answered. A man answered the voice with a gruff “This is Agent Franko, F.B.I., how can I—“

“Dad, it’s me,” Dean said, cutting him off with a chuckle. “Did you even bother to look at the caller I.D.?”

“I may be older, but I’m not dumb you idjit,” Bobby said, but he was smiling as he spoke. “I know how caller I.D. works. I was expecting a call from Rufus.” 

“On a hunt again already? Didn’t we just take out a wendigo two days ago?” 

“More like a week ago. Time flies when there’s work to be done,” Bobby said with a shrug. “If you hold on a second I can put you on speaker so your Mom can hear you, too.” 

“Alright.” 

Bobby waved over Ellen from the sink where she was washing up from dinner. “Dean’s calling from school, come on over to say hi.

“So, boy, how goes the Academy?” Bobby asked loudly.

“It’s fine,” Dean said noncommittally. 

“Were you able to find a partner, Dean?” Ellen asked. 

There was a moment of silence on the phone. “Dean?” she asked again. 

“Yeah, just not what I was expecting,” the boy answered, sounding a little irritated. 

“Who did you get?” Bobby asked. 

There was a pause. “A guy named Castiel,” Dean said quickly. “He’s a weapon called an Angel Blade, although he looked like a silver stake to me.” 

“Sounds like you should be grateful you found a compatible partner. So what’s with the irritated tone?” his father asked.

“It’s just…I was expecting something really cool, but I got stuck with a guy who can turn into a silver toothpick and has zero sense of humor,” Dean said with a pout. 

“Doesn’t sound like you’re off on the best foot. Geez, Dean, ya just met him today! Don’t write him off just yet,” Bobby chided. 

“It’s just….he’s the quiet, stoic type. Not exactly partner material.”

“You mean lady friend material,” Bobby said, seeing through Dean’s complaint.

Even though he was on a cell phone several hundred miles away, Bobby and Ellen could tell Dean was blushing like crazy as he attempted to change the direction of the conversation. 

“Well…I mean…maybe a little. It’s just…normally guys and girls are partnered up. So, I was, uh, just as surprised when it worked. Apparently everyone who had tried to hold him got their hands burned,” Dean explained. He hoped his embarrassing parents took the hint to steer clear of any more girl-talk. 

“You didn’t get burned, did you, honey?” Ellen asked. 

“Uh, nope, perfectly fine. Hey, is Jo there?”

“She’s outside right now,” Ellen answered. 

“Think she’s still upset that you got to go to fancy meister school and she got left behind,” Bobby said quietly. 

“It’s not like I decided to be a meister,” Dean grumbled. He didn’t like his little sister being mad at him for any reason. He felt like a terrible older brother when they fought. 

“We know, Dean. We’re all proud of you, no matter how much of a fit she might throw,” Ellen said reassuringly. Suddenly, another phone on the wall started to ring, which Bobby grabbed quickly. After a moment of hearing the person on the other end, Bobby rolled his eyes. After confirming that he was the F.B.I. and yes, that particular person was an actual agent, he hung up and grumbled about Rufus giving the wrong number to the local law enforcement once again. 

“Alright, well, I should get going,” Dean said, hearing his Dad muttering darkly about Uncle Rufus. “You guys be careful on the next hunt. It feels weird not being with you guys.” 

“You’ll do fine, son. Keep your head up and do your best,” Bobby said. “And try to get along with the new partner, Castiel, right?”

“Yeah, I will. Don’t have much choice anymore.” 

“Good boy. Also, if anyone crosses you, you are allowed to kick their ass,” Ellen added. “Love you honey.” 

“Thanks Mom, Dad. Love you guys, and let Jo know too. Later.”


	3. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel....Communicate?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thanks for taking the time to read this. I'm really excited for people to read this and (hopefully) love it! I'm thinking it's going to be an eventual Destiel and maybe Sabriel too. However, please let me know in the comments if you want the story to go in that direction. Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter 3

The new dorm apartment was probably the nicest place Dean had ever seen, and that included his own house. As much as Mom tried to keep the place clean, being a hunter with a family meant old books of lore, gun parts, and miscellaneous bits of black magic spell ingredients were thrown about on top of the mess made by a family of four. 

Castiel was sitting on the couch in the living room, a few bags sitting on the floor next to him. He was looking around the room as though not exactly sure what to do with himself either. Dean also caught the fact that Cas was looking in every direction except where he was standing with his duffel bag. _Ah, great, this isn’t gonna be friggin’ awkward at all._

“Hey, Cas, missed ya at dinner.”

Cas shrugged. “I wasn’t hungry.” 

“Well, you missed out,” Dean said cheerfully, patting his stomach contently. “Food was excellent. I think I can get used to this! So, where’s our room?”

Cas pointed out the bedroom and followed Dean inside. Like the rest of the apartment, it was small and bare, but Dean swore when he saw the two twin beds bunked one on top of the other.

“Dammit,” he murmured.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asked, giving the beds a curious squint, trying to see what made Dean swore.

“Well, I just….hey, Cas, is there any way I can have the bottom bunk?”

Cas looked at the two bunks and then at Dean. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“What? No!....Not exactly. I just don’t want to wake up from a night terror only to find myself falling 6 feet face first towards a concrete floor.” The young hunter spoke as though it was nothing unusual. 

“You have night terrors? Are they from the ‘family business?’” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged. “Pretty much.” 

Cas looked at the beds again, then nodded. “Sure. I like being on top, anyway.” 

Dean stiffened, and clenched his teeth as to not burst into laughter at the stoic weapon’s verbal gaffe. If he laughed, Cas would ask why, and Dean was not about to explain that particular joke to the clueless guy. 

Dean tossed his backpack on the bed, and wandered around the apartment, checking it out.

“You know, when they said pack for a dorm, I was expecting just a bed in a cramped room. I would’ve brought more stuff if I knew we had an apartment to ourselves,” he said with a grin, trying to keep the conversation light. 

However, Cas was not having it. He grabbed Dean’s shoulder, forcing them to look each other in the face. “Dean, enough. Stop the act.” 

“Act? Cas, what’re you--”

Cas held up a hand, cutting him off. “Look. I know I am not the partner you wanted. Tomorrow I will go and find another room, and another partner. Perhaps you can find someone else as well. Someone whose more your ‘type.’” 

Dean’s face flushed red with embarrassment. He was having a hard time looking his new partner in the eyes. It took him a few minutes to gather his thoughts under the weapon’s intense blue stare.

“Look, Cas, I’m sorry about earlier. Really. I was just under the impression that guys and girls partnered up only. I was really excited at the idea of meeting and hanging out with a girl that wasn’t my Mom or my little sister, ya know? Anyways, nothing personal, Cas. We okay?”

Castiel gave him another one of those long stares, but Dean didn’t look away. Eventually, Cas nodded. “I accept your apology.” 

“Awesome! Hey, how do you feel about beer?” He went back to the room and pulled out a couple bottles from the duffel bag, handing one to Castiel. Dean flopped onto the couch and put his feet up on the scuffed and scratched the table, popping the cap off the drink. Cas sat next to him, looking at the beer with a mixture of curiosity and slight nervousness, like it was a ticking time-bomb. “I feel that this is alcohol, and is not allowed on school property.” 

Dean reached over, plucked the bottle from Cas’s hands, opened it, and replaced it. “As long as we don’t tell anyone, and don’t act stupid, no one will ever know, or care.” 

“Why do you even have alcohol with you? The legal drinking age is 21, which you clearly are not,” Cas said, curious. 

Dean chuckled. “If I can go out and kill a werewolf on my own and not die, I’m allowed to drink a beer once in a while.” He tipped his open drink at Cas, and winked. “Dad’s words, not mine.” 

Cas looked down at his own drink. He sniffed the bottle’s contents and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Glancing at Dean and seeing him down the bottle without hesitation, the weapon took a tentative sip, and almost spat it out. It tasted worse than it smelled, but he kept going, and downed the bottle within a few minutes. 

Dean grinned, clearly impressed. “So, what’s the plan tomorrow?”

“There is no plan. Classes start day after tomorrow. They give us a day to settle in, get to know each other.”

“Awesome. Means we can sleep in tomorrow and drink all night!” Dean said excitedly.

“Yes, I suppose we could,” Cas replied tentatively, not really looking forward to more alcohol. “Dean, I wanted to say thank you, for agreeing to try and work together.” 

“Well, I was acting like a jerk, so no problem.” 

“No, you misunderstand me. I am glad because there is nowhere I could have gone, and no one compatible with me. I would have been difficult, if not impossible, to find a partner.” 

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t like I had to turn away a dozen other proposals. But, you’re saying that was a bluff earlier?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. 

“Holy crap, dude. You were super intense earlier. You’d be awesome at poker.” 

“What’s poker?”

Dean looked at Castiel as though lobsters had started crawling out of his ears. “Okay, this is unacceptable. Classes might not start for another day, but your real education starts tonight, Cas! You’ll thank me for this later!”


	4. Golden Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel meet a trickster and Dean misses his family.

Chapter 4

In the middle of the night there was a furious knocking on the door to Dean and Castiel’s apartment. The two were in the middle of an intense poker game, Dean almost sweating under Cas’s long stares. The kid had gone from a novice to being able to kick Dean’s pro-level ass in just a few short hours. It was horribly irritating how fast a study Cas actually was. 

The pounding was intense and Dean looked through the peep hole to see a shorter, younger man with slicked back bronze hair and amber/golden eyes looking back. The younger guy was looking exceptionally panicked. “Please, let me in!” he asked loudly. 

At first, Dean was not about to let some stranger in; however, he looked so freaked out. The guy looked like he had just gotten away from something. He decided to take a chance and open the door, and the kid almost fell inside. While Dean slammed and locked the door, the stranger was doubled over, trying to get his breath. Cas simply looked perplexed. 

“Are you hurt?” Dean asked. “Is something after you?” 

The boy shook his head, and scoffed. “Yeah, you could say that.” 

“What was it? Ghost, skinwalker, shifter?” Dean asked, wishing he’d been able to bring his pistol with him, feeling suddenly naked without it.

“What? No! It’s something much worse,” he said in a conspirator’s whisper. He pointed at the door just as someone angrily marched past their door. The peephole was not large enough to allow Dean a good look, so he cracked the door open. Both Cas and the new guy crowded under him in an attempt to all look into the hallway.

It was the back of a girl, dark-skinned with black hair, wearing a red shirt and jeans. As she suddenly turned back, Dean could’ve sworn her eyes were glowing red with rage. He slammed the door just as she looked his way. 

“What the hell was she?!” Dean asked, freaking out. He did not have any monster gear on him at all.

“That,” the stranger said, “was a Kali. My fiery-headed partner who just can’t take a joke.” 

“Wait, your partner?” Cas asked.

“I thought something was trying to _eat_ you!” Dean growled in exasperation, though he was honestly relieved with wasn’t a monster attack.

“The boy looked at Cas in concern. “Is he always this nutty?” he asked, motioning to Dean who could clearly see and hear him. 

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know. I just met him today.” 

“Ah, well, I see you’ve got your work cut out for you. Speaking of meeting, I’m Gabriel,” the boy introduced. 

“My name is Castiel Novak.” 

“Dean Winchester. Hey, Gabriel, Castiel….are you guys…?” 

“We aren’t related,” both Gabriel and Castiel said at once and then looked at each in surprise. 

“Of course not,” Dean snickered. “Anyway, Gabe, why’s your partner trying to kill you?”

Gabriel plopped himself on the couch. “First of all, just call me Gabriel.” He eyed the beer bottle and grinned. “Secondly, can I have one, too?”

“Sorry, we’re out,” Dean grumbled, not about to share his precious stash with a complete stranger.

“But Dean there’s--” Cas stared to say, until a glare shut him up.

Gabriel gave Dean his best impression of a sad puppy. “Ah, come on Dean! Just one for your old friend?”

Dean arched an eyebrow. “‘Old friend?’ I just met you thirty seconds ago.”

“And? Time’s irrelevant,” Gabriel said with a grin.

“Gabriel, Dean asked you a question,” Cas said, steering the conversation back on track.

Gabriel signed in an exaggerated manner. “Well, like I said, my partner can’t take a joke.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and after a few moments found the picture he wanted to show them. He gave the phone to Dean, and Cas squished in close to see. Dean looked at his partner, who looked at him confused. “What?” Cas asked. 

“Dude, haven’t you heard of personal space?”

Cas barely shuffled a few inches away, but it was enough. Dean went back to the picture, and it suddenly hit him what he was looking at. “Did you draw a handlebar moustache on her face? What is that, sharpie?”

“Yes, that’s a handlebar. But that’s not sharpie, it’s calligraphy ink. That’s how I got those sweeping lines and perfect shape. Was a real trick to paint that on her face and not wake her up,” Gabriel said proudly. 

Dean burst into laughter, and even Castiel smiled briefly, though it was more at Dean’s infectious belly laugh.

“No wonder she’s pissed,” the hunter gasped between breathes. “God, I haven’t had that good a laugh in forever! I think you better lay low, let her cool her jets tonight. You can crash on the couch, just don’t draw mustaches on us while we sleep.” 

Gabriel looked offended at the idea. “Solemnly swear, won’t touch a hair on your head.” 

~*~

Dean stumbled out of the bedroom towards the kitchen, only to see Castiel sitting at the small counter, reading a book. In front of him was a plate with the remains of eggs on it. 

“Man, that smells really good,” Dean lamented, wishing they had groceries.

“There’s more in the oven,” Cas said, never taking his eyes from his book. 

“Really? Cas, you’re awesome!” Dean said cheerfully. Just as promised, there was a pan full of scrambled eggs and cheese waiting for him. After filling a plate, Dean pulled up a chair next to his partner and dug into breakfast with much gusto.

After downing half the plate (“This is delicious, Cas!”) he paused to look around the apartment. “Guess the little guy left, huh?” he said. 

“Actually, I escorted him out earlier,” Cas said, still reading. 

“‘Escorted?’ Escorted him where?”

“Into the hallway. He was attempting to cover your hand with the shaving cream he found in your duffel bag.”

“What? Oh, that little asshat!” Dean growled. “Come on! You’d think he’d learn that playing tricks on stranger doesn’t end well. Besides, after that whole ‘calligraphy moustache’ I would expect something more original than the shaving cream trick.” 

Cas squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was legitimately angry or not, but seemed to give up. Dean was a mystery he couldn’t figure out.

“Anyways, Dean, I was able to go and pick up a few basics from the nearby grocery store, but we need to get more things.”

“I don’t really care, as long as it’s edible, man.” He took another bite of eggs, but stopped chewing at gave Cas a funny look. “Hey Cas. You got up, kicked out Gabriel, got dressed, went to the store, and cooked breakfast already? Please tell me it’s, like, 3 in the afternoon.” 

“It’s 10:38 a.m.”

“Ah, man! Please don’t tell me your one of those people that wakes up at the asscrack of dawn for no reason, Castiel.” 

“I don’t wake up at dawn for no reason--”

“Oh, thank god--”

“I do it because I like the early morning. There is something soothing about being the only person awake, like you’re the only person alivein the world.”

Dean sighed heavily, and patted Cas sadly on the shoulder. “And to think I thought this was going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” 

~*~

Castiel was putting away the meager amount of groceries when he realized Dean had been gone a while. He wandered back through the apartment, until he came to stand in the doorway of the bedroom. Dean was sitting on his bed, holding a picture in his hands, and a strange, faraway look on his face. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, and Dean jerked at hearing the other boy’s voice. 

“Oh, hey, Cas,” Dean said, and tried to stuff the picture under his pillow. Cas nodded towards it, and asked “What is that picture?” 

Dean sighed, and seemed to debate on whether to actually show it to Cas or not. After a moment of Cas standing awkwardly in the doorway, unsure whether to leave or stay, Dean patted the bed next to him, motioning for him to sit. Cas sat down, and Dean showed him the picture. 

It was a family portrait. It was black and white, and featured a man with a beard and trucker’s cap next to a woman with long hair, who was wearing a denim jacket. They were leaning against an older model muscle car, black. On the hood sat Dean, probably taken within the past year or so, and next to him was a blonde girl of ten. 

“That’s my dad, Bobby Winchester, and my mom, Ellen Winchester. And of course me and my little sister Jo. And that’s baby.” 

Cas squinted at the picture. “Your little sister looks to be ten years old, not a baby.” 

“What…no! Baby is the car. It’s a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and she’s as much a family member as anyone else. As soon as I graduate from here, Dad’s said I can have her.” 

Dean spoke with so much affection and pride at both introducing his family and the idea of getting his own car and the corner of Cas’s lips turned up in a smile. His partner’s good mood was pretty infectious. “You have a nice family.” 

“Thanks. A family of Hunters is pretty rare, but Mom and Dad make it work. We all keep each other safe, while at the same time keeping others safe. Part of the reason they were so proud when they found out I had the makings of a meister. That’s a lot of power to do good with.” 

Cas nodded, and Dean looked at him. “What about you? Got any pictures of your family?” 

Cas stared straight ahead, not looking at Dean. “No. I grew up pretty isolated. My family favors independence. We were never close.” 

“Sorry to hear that, man.” He sounded a little apologetic, like he wished he’d never brought it up. Dean made a move to put the picture back into his old duffel bag, but Cas stood quickly. “Wait, Dean,” he said, “You should hang the picture up. Either here or on your desk.” 

“Desk? Ha! You’re assuming I’ll use that thing for its intended purpose.” 

The weapon shrugged. “It was just a suggestion.” 

Dean looked around the room, and went over to his small bureau for his clothes. Over that, where he could see it every day, he tacked up the picture with some pushpins. Cas came over and gave it a once over. “It’s not crooked,” he offered. 

“Well, that’s good. Thanks for letting me hang this up,” Dean looked down for the first time and realized something strange. “Cas….have you been holding a bag of frozen broccoli in your hand this whole time?”

The Angel Blade looked down at his hand, and only just realized how numb it was. “I guess I forgot I was holding it. I’ll go put this away.” Once Cas left the room Dean simply pinched the bridge of his nose, as though his partner’s quirkiness were beginning to give him a headache. He looked back at the picture, though, and whispered “Love you guys,” to it before leaving to help Castiel with the groceries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm hoping people reading this are enjoying it. Just a reminder that this story uses characters and situations up through season 5 of Supernatural, so there may be spoilers! Also, if you want this to be a Destiel/Sabriel eventually, let me know! Please Read and Comment and I'll see you soon!


	5. First Day of Class-Dean and Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day at the DWMA, Part 1: Dean and Castiel

Dean felt uncomfortable in the lecture hall, sitting at a long desk next to Cas and surrounded by other kids his age. He hadn’t been in a school in…well…ever. Dean had been homeschooled by his parents. Despite their day jobs, Ellen and Bobby weren’t going to let Dean’s education fall to the wayside. He suddenly remembered Bobby sitting in the backseat of the Impala, coaching Dean on his times tables, while Ellen drove them to a rugaru sighting. They were determined to prepare Dean for every aspect of life, come Hell or high water.

“Dean, are you okay? You seem nervous,” Cas said, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“Nervous? No way. You’re….nervous,” Dean said, the comeback sounding lame even to himself.

Castiel cocked his head, as though trying to figure out what Dean meant exactly. He decided to go with the literal approach. “Well, yes, Dean, I am nervous. I fail to see how this is an insult.” 

“Just….forget it,” Dean said. He looked at the students around, but none of them really drew much attention to themselves. He did, however, recognize the prankster Gabriel and his partner Kali a few rows away. Gabriel was weaving a piece of string through his fingers, and Kali was reading a book. Gabriel was still alive, but the bandage wrapped around his head was evident that he hadn’t escaped her wrath unscathed. Kali’s face was a little darker over her lip, but the ink mustache was essentially gone. Dean also noticed that the girl was incredibly beautiful, with big brown eyes that had a gleam to them. She looked absolutely stunning!

Little idiot gets the hottest girl I’ve seen at this school? What the hell! Did I do something wrong in a past life? Dean thought, still a bit sore about not getting a girl partner. 

Except for them, he didn’t recognize anyone. Before he could look around further, a familiar visage walked into the room. Spirit Alban came in, and the quiet hum of the classroom immediately silenced. Everyone watched him curiously, as he came to lean on the desk in front of the room. Dean assumed that everyone, just like him, was contacted by Spirit about their weapon or meister abilities. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Spirit said, and there was a chorus of greetings. 

“I hope everyone is getting along? No homicides yet? Excellent, we’re off to a good start so far! As you know, my name is Spirit Alban, although you may call me Mr. Death Scythe, as that is what I am. You are the next class of meisters and weapons, and you are very special, each in your own, individual way. You will learn to trust and depend on your partners with your life, as they will on yours. You will become the next protectors of humanity, and, if you work hard, you might even create the next Death Scythe. Welcome to your first day at the Death Weapon Meister Academy.”

~*~  


Many of the students in the gym had never handled a weapon before, and almost all of the weapons had never been handled as such. Most of the students were complete novices and a cacophony of swears filled the air as people dropped, tripped over, and stumbled over one another. 

One pair, however, was not part of the novice crowd. In fact, Dean was across the gym in front of a row of straw dummies, the silver Angel Blade gripped loosely in his hand. He felt the weight of the weapon, which consisted of a stout handle and a long blade. Although it looked uneven in design, it was the perfect weight for stabbing and balance for throwing. The weapon had a round handle, and instead of a single blade, it was four razor-sharp blades into a cross-shape. It was probably one of the weirdest weapons Dean had seen. 

Dean tossed the blade between his hands, getting used to him, and he heard Cas’ voice clearly cough uncomfortably. “Dean? What are you doing?”

“Just getting used to ya, buddy,” Dean said. He eyed the dummies before him, and grinned. 

Suddenly, Dean ducked, as though the dummy had thrown a vicious punch. He swerved underneath, and used the blade to block an imaginary downward strike. He twisted to the side, and leapt forward, shoving the blade through the dummy’s heart. He twisted the knife and jerked it out, stepping back to survey his handiwork. 

Dean looked down at the blade, and saw Cas’s face reflecting back at him. Though hard to tell with his usual stoic face, he seemed pleased. “You seem well-versed in hand-to-hand combat,” Cas mused. 

“Comes with the 9 to 5,” Dean said.

There was a cough behind him, and he turned around to see the instructor, a tall man with a headband, Sid, grinning at them. “Well, well, let me guess. You’re the hunter boy, Dean Winchester, right? And that’s Castiel Novak, I’m assuming.” 

“Yes sir,” they both answered at once. A flash of light and Castiel was standing next to Dean, staring at Sid intently. 

Sid walked around them to look at the hole in the dummy’s chest. “Not bad,” he said. “You know, hunters and meisters usually don’t mix. And a hunter meister? That’s a new one on me. You are definitely one of the first hunters here, if not the first.” 

He turned back to them, and motioned towards the kids behind them who were still getting used to the whole meister/weapon thing. “You’re ahead of the curve when it comes to hand-to-hand combat skills, which is why I’m excusing you from the physical training classes for the next two weeks.” 

“Alright!” Dean said with a fist pump. He was starting to really like this Sid guy. 

“But, won’t that but us behind the other students?” Cas asked, and Dean’s elbow dug into his side. “Shove it,” Dean whispered, but Sid laughed. 

“You misunderstand me, boys,” Sid said, armed crossed, a villainous glint in his eye. “For the next two weeks, instead, _I’ll_ be your mentor. I’m a three-star meister, and a knife-wielder at that. I can teach you some tricks that you’ll thank me for later.” 

Dean wasn’t so sure. “Why the sudden interest in us?” 

Sid grinned. “So far, you two are the best in your class, and you haven’t even finished your first day here. Instead of wasting your time, I’ll get you up to speed. The faster you train, the sooner you can go into the field and start hunting on your own for kishin eggs.”

Sid leaned forwards towards them. “Besides, a Hunter-turned-Meister and an Angel Blade Weapon is a duo we’ve never had before, and I’m curious what exactly you two are capable of. It’s just the kind of man I am.” 

“It sounds like a great opportunity,” Castiel said, giving Dean a good-natured shrug.

Dean looked at Cas, and could have sworn he looked excited at the prospect. “Well, seems I can’t say no to that face.” He looked at Sid and grinned. “Alright, it sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and I really hope you're enjoying it so far! Please leave kudos or comments, they make my day!


	6. First Day of Class-Gabriel and Kali

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Day at the DWMA, Part Two: Kali and Gabriel

Suddenly, there was an angry scream from behind them. All three turned to see most of the students were pressed against a wall, giving a wide berth to a girl holding a colorful pistol in her hands. 

“A water pistol? A WATER PISTOL?! Gabriel, I demand that you take on a more dignified form this instance!”

“Ah, come on Kali, can’t take a joke?” a voice from the gun said smartly. 

She swung the gun around, causing students to duck and scream, afraid of being shot. She howled in anger when she tried to pull the trigger, but nothing happened. “Why aren’t you working?!” she yelled, shaking the gun. 

“Kali, knock that off, I’m gonna be sick!” Gabriel begged. “What are you, a moron? I’m not gonna let you shoot anyone!”

“You little wretch!” she snapped. In her anger, she threw the weapon towards the ground, where it bounced hard once and then transformed back into Gabriel, lying on the ground. He was pale, and looking a little green. 

“Geez, Kali, what the hell is the matter with you?” he asked, holding his head, hissing in pain. 

“First, you insult me by turning into a children’s toy, and expect me to wield you like a proper weapon. Then, you refuse to follow my orders and not work properly? Oh, and let us not forget the ink incident!” She was snarling now, and she looked like she was going to strangle him right then and there. “You’re a disgrace, and I will have nothing to do with you!” 

“Right back at cha, ya crazy bitch!” Gabriel growled back. 

“Fine!” 

“Fine!” 

Kali whipped around and ran from the gym, while Gabriel fell back against the floor, breathing heavily, trying not the vomit everywhere. 

The other students, who had been stunned into silence, now started to murmur amongst themselves. Sid shook his head as he came forward, helping the weapon up from the floor. 

“Class is dismissed,” he said, holding Gabriel steady. The weapon looked angrily at him. “Why didn’t you stop her?” he asked. 

“Meisters and weapons have to learn to deal with each other,” the teacher said. “If she tried to kill you, I would’ve stepped in.” 

“She’s crazy,” Gabriel muttered. 

“It happens from time to time,” Sid confirmed. 

After Sid escorted Gabriel to the nurse’s office, Dean looked at Castiel, and suddenly gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Well, Cas, that certainly makes me glad that you’re my partner now,” he said. 

A small grin grew across Cas’s face. “That holds true for me as well, Dean.” 

Something caught Dean’s eye, and he watched the other students leave the gym, chatting amongst themselves. There was a guy amongst them, about Dean’s height with brown hair and wearing a similar long-sleeve shirt like his. The guy reading a book as he walked, and was flanked by two girls with long black hair and leather jackets, both looking ready to kick someone’s ass. 

_That guy looks familiar_ ….Dean thought to himself. Out loud, though, he whistled. “The bookworm gets two hot girls?! What the hell?”

Cas gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “What happened to that whole ‘glad you’re my partner’ thing?”

Dean chuckled. “Hey, go easy man, you might bruise something. By the way, that guy with the two scary-looking babes, do you know him?”

“No, Dean. Why?”

“I just….I dunno, man, I feel like I recognize him from somewhere….”

Cas arched an eyebrow. “If you think you’ve seen him before, why’d you ask me about it?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a smartass, Cas. Come on, let’s go.” 

~*~  
Spirit massaged his forehead, mulling over Sid’s story. “Is the boy okay?” he asked.

“Gabriel’s fine, for now. But I haven’t seen a blow up like that in years, not on the first day, anyways. It usually takes a while for people to get that angry with each other.” 

“Yes, usually that’s the case. However, didn’t you say that he was a squirt gun?” Spirit asked. 

“Yeah. Seems like our weapon has a trickster streak,” Sid replied. 

“And I’m going to assume that his partner is not the prank-appreciating type. Wonderful.” 

“It’s curious, though. It’s rare for two people to be a compatible weapon and meister pair, but to be at each other’s throats…that’s a new one on me,” Sid chuckled. He clapped Spirit on the shoulder. “I gotta get back to my students, but since you’re in charge of the new kids, now it’s on you.” 

“Fine, fine. I’ll go talk to them. Try to smooth things over. If I can’t, then, I guess I’ll send them to Lord Death. Maybe he can knock some sense into them. Literally.” Spirit was not looking forward to it. 

~*~

The situation was awkward, to say the least. Gabriel and Kali sat on the old couch in their small apartment, each sitting on one end, pointedly not looking at each other. Spirit sat in front of them in a chair, hands clasped in his lap. 

“Okay, you two. What’s the problem?”

“She started it--!”

“He started it--!”

They both replied at once. They looked at each other and then angrily turned away. 

“Well, it’s obvious that you’re soul compatible,” Spirit muttered to himself. God, it feels like I’m back in couples counseling, Spirit thought. Aloud he said “So, let’s try this again. What’s the problem?” 

“He’s a jerk who belittles me and tarnishes my good name.” 

“She’s a crazy chick who can’t take a joke.” 

Kali whipped around to face Gabriel, arms crossed in anger. “Why you little--! I am Kali Shivan, of the Shivan dynasty, and you will show me respect! I was willing to work together, but you threw that option away when you drew on my face!” 

Spirit looked at Gabriel. “Is that true?”

“Well….it was pretty funny at the time,” the boy admitted. Both Kali and Spirit gave him an incredulous look. He threw is hands up. “Look, it was just a joke, an ice-breaker! It wasn’t a declaration of war. You seemed a bit like a stick in the mud, so I was just trying to get you to loosen up. Instead I get a book upside my head.” At this point he touched the headband.

“That ink took me hours to wash off! And today, our first day of class, you trick me again! You take on the form of a child’s toy, and refuse to work!” 

“You might have shot someone; I was just keeping everyone safe!” 

“And the water gun form?”

“Just the way it goes,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “Instead of accepting it, accepting me, you try to make me vomit before the whole class!” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Spirit said, cutting off Kali’s retort. The two teenagers gave him a dirty look, as though they did not appreciate his interrupting their argument. 

“We don’t have time for this. Look, the fact that you, Kali, can wield you, Gabriel, means that you are compatible with each other. Soul compatibility is not something that is that easy to find naturally, and almost impossible to cultivate. If you two want to split, that’s on you, but finding another compatible partner in a reasonable amount of time might be next to impossible. Since it sounds like you’ve just gotten off to a bad start, here’s what we’re going to do. First of all, you two are going to apologize to each other.” 

He held up a silencing hand. “Yes, both of you are in fault. Gabriel, you have terrible taste in pranks, and Kali, you’re working with a hot temper. However, I’ve seen partners work together on less. So, you’re going to apologize. Go on.” 

After an awkward moment, Gabriel turned to face Kali, but she refused to turn towards him. Gabriel rolled his eyes at this. “Look Kali, I’m sorry. I suppose I shouldn’t have pranked you. I just meant it in good fun. Again, I’m sorry.” 

Both Spirit and Gabriel watched her curiously. She seemed conflicted; she kept glancing quickly at Gabriel, but couldn’t seem to bring herself to actually face him. “I didn’t mean to hit you with that book,” she said. “Your hard head almost broke the spine, and that was a collector’s edition.” 

“I’m not exactly sure. Was that an apology?” Gabriel hissed to Spirit. The Death Scythe shrugged. “Baby steps, Gabriel. It’s good enough for me.” He looked down at the wristwatch, then stood up in surprise. “Oh! It’s almost happy hour at Chupa-Cabra’s! I’ve gotta go. Gorgeous ladies won’t wait all night!” The Death Scythe walked towards the door to leave, but he turned around one last time. “And now, you two are going to start over.” 

“Start over?” Gabriel asked. 

“Yes. As of right now, you’ve just met. Kali Shivan, meister, meet your weapon partner, Gabriel Arc’ Angle. And this time, you two start off on the right foot. Good luck!” With that, Spirit left them alone, humming a merry toon to himself as he went. 

“Did he just…leave?” Kali said, then scoffed. “I can’t believe this.” 

“Well, me neither. By the way, my name’s Gabriel, what’s yours?” As he spoke, he held out his hand for a handshake. 

Kali looked at him and then rolled her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Meeting you for the first time.” 

“You’ve got to be joking. You’re actually doing that?”

“Well, when the Grim Reaper’s personal Weapon gives you an order, it’s probably in everyone’s best interest that you follow it.” Gabriel kept holding his hand out. “And your name is…?”

Kali looked at him, a boy of 16 who was, adorably, a few inches shorter than her. He gave her his most winning smile, and winked at her. Finally, finally, she uncrossed her arms and shook his hand. “Kali Shivan.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “No more pranks, alright?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I can’t deny you the best part of my personality, but I can make sure you get front row seats to the show instead. Fair?”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, and it made Kali’s blood run warm. “Fair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'll be updating this everyday, so I hope you enjoy it. As always, kudos and comments are welcome!


	7. Bookworm and the Biker Babes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a Hunter and a Angel meet a Bookworm and his Demons

Dean sat on the couch, head laying back against the couch, feeling the aches in his muscles go all the way to the bone. “God, Sid was not kidding when it said it was going to be a tough regimen.” 

Castiel walked in from the kitchen and tossed a bag of ice towards the exhausted hunter. It hit him in the chest, and he “oomphed!” at the cold, hard impact. “Thanks…I think,” Dean grumped. He put it against his forehead, which was swelling up nicely over his left eye. 

Castiel flopped down next to him, his usual buttoned-down shirt pulled open and exposing his shoulder, where he placed an ice-pack. “You’re welcome.”

The two guys sat on the couch, leaning back and simply letting their weary bodies rest. It had been a few days now, and Sid’s regimen had gone from basic cardio and strength training to making Dean and Castiel spar. The last part had been confusing. 

_“Why are you making us fight each other? I though the whole part was so we’d kick other monsters butts together,” Dean had said to Sid when he told them to spar._

_The teacher simply said “You can’t work together properly until you know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Now, fight!”_

He grimaced in pain. “Yeah, hey Cas, next time don’t pull your punches or anything. I might think you’re going soft on me,” Dean said sarcastically. 

Cas looked him. “I’ll bear that in mind next time. I didn’t realize you were a fan of broken ribs.” 

Dean slowly looked at him, a wide-eyed look on his face. “Dude…was that sarcasm?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “It does happen on occasion.” 

“Yeah, so does earthquakes and tsunamis,” Dean said. He started to chuckle, but ended up hissing in pain instead. “Anyways, the real question is, how does a scrawny guy like yourself almost break my face with one hit?”

“Training was all I did at the sanctuary. It’s something I’ve been doing all my life. Guess I’ve developed a bit of a right hook.” 

“‘Sanctuary?’ Don’t tell me your some sort of kung-fu shaolin monk,” Dean joked, smiling. 

“We aren’t monks. We just train in isolation,” Cas said, staring off into the distance. 

Dean took that to mean the conversation was over. He closed his eye again, and was resting, when Cas suddenly smacked his shoulder. He jerked awake, looked at Cas, then down at his shoulder. “Cas. Ow!” 

“There’s a homework assignment due tomorrow, and the book you need is in the library,” Cas said matter-of-factly. 

Dean gave his partner the most incredulous glare he could manage. “The library, Cas? Seriously? _Now?_ You’ve gotta be kidding me! Look, I’m tired, I’m sore, and I don’t wanna go at this time of night. Can’t you just help me out on it tonight, and I’ll do my own from then on I promise.” 

Castiel turned towards him, those intense blue eyes staring right through him. Luckily, Dean was already starting to get used to Cas’s weird looks. “Please, Cas?” he asked.

Cas shook his head gravely. “If you don’t do your own work, you won’t learn anything, Dean.” 

“Yeah, thanks Mom, anything else?” Dean grumbled. “Whatever. Let’s just go before I change my mind.” 

Bruised and sore, both boys left the apartment and made their ways towards the Academy Library at a slow and steady pace. The trip had been silent until about halfway, when Dean suddenly looked at Cas keeping stride next to him. “By the way, Cas. How come I never see you doing homework? I mean _ever_. You never crack a book yet you’ve got some of the highest grades in the class. What gives?”

“I do my work at night,” Cas simply said. 

“Bull! I never see you do anything school-related at night.” 

“I stay up late. After you go to sleep, I do what I need to do, when I won’t get distracted.” 

“Wait. You go to sleep after me, and are almost always awake before me…how much do you sleep?”

“4 hours a night, give or take,” Castiel said nonchalantly. 

Dean scoffed. “Dude, you’re a freak,” he said, though there was good-humor behind it.

They continued in silence into the library, and made sure not to disturb anyone while weaving in and out of bookcases. After several minutes of searching one particular shelf in general with no avail, Dean smacked it loudly in frustration. A loud chorus of “shhhh!”s came from some of the tables near them. 

“We trudged all the way out here and it’s not even here!” Dean whispered the accusation at Castiel.

The weapon shrugged. “I don’t have book radar, Dean. Let’s just go see if someone’s checked it out.” 

“Fine. If it’s not there then I’m saying screw it to this homework. Man, I’m tired, sore, and hungry. And don’t give me that look, Cas, skipping out on one assignment won’t be the end of the world, I promise.” 

Cas gave him a look like he wasn’t quite sure he believed that last part, but he followed Dean out of the book stacks anyways. As they walked past a table with books in the middle, Cas recognized the book Dean needed sitting on top of the stack. He grabbed Dean’s shoulder, halting him mid-stride. “There it is,” Cas said. 

The guy from gym class was at that particular table, along with the two dark-haired girls. Though the guy was reading a book, the two girls were reading glossy-covered magazines. 

“I feel like we’re about to break into Font Knox,” Dean whispered. 

“Don’t be so overdramatic,” Cas said, although he didn’t sound so confident. “Maybe just ask politely to borrow it for a few minutes?”

Dean sighed. “This is too much effort for a damn homework assignment.” 

Taking a breath, he walked up to the table and let out a tiny cough to get the girls’ attention. The dark-haired beauty closest to him looked up at him from her magazine. Dean suddenly gave her a brilliant smile. “Uh, hi there. Well, this is incredibly awkward. See, it seems I lost my library card; do you mind if I check you out instead?”

Her mouth opened slightly, she was clearly shocked at the use of the terribly cheesy pick-up line. Though the guy never reacted, the other girl scoffed quietly to herself. Dean had never really talked to a girl his age before, and as he stood there, shifting his weight from one leg to another with nervousness.

Suddenly, the smile dropped from his face as he realized what he said. “Oh, crap, I’m sorry. I meant, uh, not you per say, I meant out the uh, check out the--”

She huffed at him in annoyance. What do you want?” she asked a little hotly. 

_Well, need to work on that delivery next time. God, next time need to not mix up pick-ups lines with normal conversation._ Taking a deep breath, he let out an awkward chuckle. Next, Dean decided to try out his charm. “Well, _beautiful_ , might I add, I had a quick question for you. That book right there, is there any way I can borrow it for a couple minutes? I’ll give it right back, promise,” he said with his most winning smile. 

The girl looked at up him, and said smiled evilly. “Sorry, but no can do.” 

Dean looked from the book on the table (not being read by anyone) to her. “But…you’re not even using it now.” 

“I plan on using it momentarily,” she said with a mischievous grin. She was clearly getting back at him for the terrible line.

“I—I just—Lady, please? I’m tired and hungry and just want to borrow it for 5 minutes then you can have it back.” Dean’s voice went from charming to worn, the aches from the day coming back in force.

Before she could retort again, the boy looked up from his book. He had chin-length brown hair, a pointed nose, and hazel eyes. “Ruby, knock it off,” the boy said. He grabbed the book in question and stood up before walking over and handing it to Dean. 

“Don’t let the snarky attitude fool you, she’s actually not that bad,” he said with an apologetic smile. Ruby huffed but did not speak. 

“It’s fine. Look, I really appreciate this, um….”

“Sam,” the boy said, holding out a hand. 

“Dean,” they shook hands. 

“Well, Dean, this is Ruby, and Meg, my somewhat thorny partners,” Sam said with a grin. 

Ruby waved in annoyance, while Meg, the other slightly heavier vixen, actually winked at him. “Charmed, I assure you,” she said slowly, her voice low and had a hint of a drawl to it. 

“Right back at cha, sister. This is my partner, Castiel.”

Dean was expecting him to simply nod, or give them one of his intense squints; instead, Cas actually stepped forward and held out his hand to shake theirs. Sam took it, but the girls didn’t make a move towards him, leaving him waiting awkwardly. 

Ruby actually crossed her arms while looking at his hand. “Look. I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, I just don’t want my hand burned off,” Ruby said. “You understand.” 

Cas pulled it back and even though they could not read his seemingly stoic expression, Dean could tell Cas was hurt. 

“Ruby, that was uncalled for,” Sam admonished, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

“I never did that on purpose,” Cas said quietly, trying to explain.

“It’s nothing personal there, Clarence. Angel Blades and Demon Blades just don’t get along,” Meg explained, sounding more apologetic than her partner.

“But…my name is Castiel,” he said, sounding horribly confused. 

“Okay, okay, knock it off,” Dean said, cutting everyone off. “You aren’t Bloods and Crips; knock off the gang crap. We’re all weapons and meisters, here, right? This means we’re all on the same side against kishins and monsters. Which means our problems are not with each other.”

Dean pointedly looked at Ruby as he said this last sentence, and she ended up turning away from his piercing gaze. _Must be picking up the technique for the ‘ultimate intense stare’ from Cas,_ he thought to himself. 

Dean smacked Sam’s shoulder, grinning as he did so to show he held no hard feelings towards the boy. “Partners, man. They can be a pain, I know,” he said cheerfully. “Anyways, thanks again for the book. And hey, maybe we’ll catch each other around.” 

Sam nodded, and while Meg waved at them, Ruby ignored them. Dean and Cas left the library, book tucked inside Dean’s jacket. “Man, who would’ve thought a trip to the library would be so exciting,” Dean said, stretching his arms over his head as they walked. 

Castiel, quiet for several minutes, now spoke. “What exactly did you mean by knowing partners can be a pain?” he asked, both an accusing and curious tone under his gruff voice. 

“Nothing, really,” Dean said. “I was just saying that to try and smooth everything out.” 

“So I’m not a pain?”

“Keep bringing it up and I will change my mind on that.” 

Despite the gruff response, the corners of the weapon’s mouth turned up into a grin. _You’re not so bad yourself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you're continuing to enjoy the story! I might not be able to post this weekend (I'll be away from the internet) but I'll be back at it ASAP. Also, keep leaving me kudos and comments!


	8. Learning Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Sid realizes he needs to use a more....hands-on approach

“No, no, no!” Sid muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Are you purposefully not listening to me?”

Dean huffed angrily, tightening his grip around the handle of the Angel Blade. He kept his stance, legs wide and blade ready to jab into anything that tried to attack him. Sid groaned like he was getting an enormous migraine. 

“ _What,_ Sid? What do you want?” Dean snapped. “I’m holding the blade like you asked!”

 _If you were, I wouldn’t be getting irritated with you!_ Sid thought. “Look, your stance is fine, your posture is fine. It’s not your body that’s the problem,” he said. He tapped his temple. “It’s your brain. You need to stop thinking and let the channel of energy between you and Castiel open up all the way.” 

“What are you talking about? Stop speaking in riddles and tell it to me straight!” Dean said angrily. It was very tempting to stab the teacher in the kidney, but he suspected that might get him expelled. It might be totally worth it, though. 

Sid came in close, leaning down a bit so he could talk to Dean face to face. “It means,” he stated, flicking Dean’s forehead hard, “that you need to stop thinking like a _hunter_ , and start thinking like a _meister_.” 

He stood up and clasped his hands around his back. He started circling Dean in a predatory way. Dean became tense, wary that Sid was going to try and pull a fast one on him the second he let down his guard. 

“What are you holding?” Sid asked. 

“An Angel Blade,” Dean said. 

Sid reached out and smacked him, hard, on the back of his head. “No, you’re holding your partner, Castiel, who happens to be an Angel Blade weapon. That’s your major problem right now, Dean. You’ve been trained to use weapons as just things, a mean to an end. The problem is you aren’t using your partner to the extent of his abilities.” 

“What are you going on about, now?” Dean asked. Sid just quietly chuckled behind his back. “I was expecting a lot more from you, Dean. I thought a hunter would get it. Maybe you’re just not as smart as I expected you to be.” 

“What the hell are you--” Dean said, and he turned just in time to get a right hook to the face. 

“Dean!” Cas’s voice called, but the warning came too late. Dean stumbled and swore, feeling the cut open over his eye, and a few drops of blood fall to his cheek. “What the hell, Sid?!” he spat. 

Instead of responding, Sid lunged forward, another fist on its way to Dean’s face. This time Dean ducked the blow and dodged to the side. He landed a hard punch into Sid’s ribs, but the teacher ignored the blow. Sid grabbed Dean’s shirt and shoved him, hard, backwards about 20 feet, where he fell onto his side. Cas slipped from Dean’s grasp and lay a few feet away, his face peering out. “Get up, Dean!” he said urgently. 

“Meisters and Weapons have to have a deep trust in order to work as a partnership. After all, a weapon is useless without a meister, and generally vice versa. In battle, both must have each other’s back in order for either to come back alive,” Sid said, watching Dean get back to his feet. 

The hunter cracked his neck and kneeled down to pick up his partner, never taking his eyes off the traitorous teacher. Something changed in his mind’s eye, however. Instead of grabbing the blade like it was a weapon his dad found or whipped up over a boring weekend, Dean pictured that he was grasping Castiel’s hand in a handshake as he grabbed the weapon. A strange tingle ran up his arm, making him jolt. 

A sensation that felt like a cross between a shiver of fear and the pain of numb nerves waking up, the jolt was uncomfortable, but passed quickly. 

“What the hell?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

Sid’s eyes narrowed slightly, seeing the shudder run through the young man. 

Sid bounded forward so fast Dean almost didn’t see him move. Sid started throwing fast punches, and Dean was forced backwards as he tried to dodge the blows. He dodged left and right before rolling to the side, away from Sid’s long arms. He landed on his feet and got taken out by the backhand across the face. Sid was fast, too fast, for Dean to outrun long term. 

He landed a few feet away on his back, half of his face numb from the hit. “Stop it, Sid!” he said, scuttled backwards when Sid started coming for him again. 

Sid did pause for a moment. “A weapon is not just a gun, or a scythe, or a knife. It’s also a human consciousness. A human being that has the ability to store and deliver energy when needed, in fact. Like a living battery, you could say.” 

_Dean!_ Cas said again, but this time the voice was echoing around inside Dean’s head. The hunter did not even have time to question how this was happening; his attention was on the murderous teacher inbound. 

_There’s no way I’m gonna let some reject teacher off me! Dammit, he’s too fast, I can’t get a decent hit on him, though_ , Dean thought, trying to figure out a plan before Sid finished him off. 

_Dean! Stop thinking and let me help you_ , Cas said. 

_Help me? How would you--?_

_Stop thinking!_ Castiel ordered, and another one of those weird jolts went through Dean, except this one was packing a lot more punch. Dean almost yelped in pain as the wave ran through his body. Once the jolt wore off, though, he felt energized, alive. Suddenly Sid, who had seemed to tower over Dean and was faster than could be comprehended, suddenly wasn’t so tall, wasn’t so fast. 

Sid leapt forward once again, fist flying right towards Dean’s face. Dean jerked his head to the side just in time for the fist to smash into the ground instead. Dean drove the blunt end of the blade into Sid’s stomach, driving him backwards and knocking the wind from him. Without a second’s pause, Dean’s leg shot out and caught Sid behind the knee, bringing him crumbling to the ground. The impact onto his back knocked the wind from him. As he took a breath of air, something cold pressed against the side of his neck. Dean was suddenly looming over him, barely pressing the blade into his jugular. 

Sweat matted his hair, and he was only barely out of breathe. Several silent seconds passed as Dean assessed whether the teacher was going to try and lunge for him again. Once it was obvious Sid had no intention of that—he actually smiled instead—Dean leaned back, lifting the blade from Sid’s neck. Sid actually coughed a few times. The two hit combo from the front and the back and made it suddenly very hard to breath. 

As he perched himself on his elbows, watched Dean look at the blade in slight confusion, but then clarity washed over him. “I couldn’t beat him on my own, so you gave me a boost,” he said to the blade. 

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Cas’s voice said, as though it wasn’t a big deal. 

Dean looked up at Sid, who was already breathing normally once more. “That’s what you meant, right? About using my partner’s abilities?”

“Kid, we’re just _barely_ scratching the surface of what a properly trained weapon and meister pair can do. A weapon can share energy with its meister, making them faster, stronger, tougher, smarter, and that much more dangerous in a fight. It’s a matter of survival, after all. Without a meister a weapon is pretty useless, so they have a tendency to boost their meister’s fighting abilities to handle any threat that comes at them. A good strategy, considering we do fight human-killing monsters for a living.”

“I could have killed you, or you me!” Dean said angrily. 

Sid just laughed at him. “You, kill me? Give yourself a few years, Dean. And I wouldn’t have injured you that badly. We still have a week of training to get through, at the bare minimum. See, you struck me as the kind of student that needs to see something in front of them in order to get the gears in your head moving. So, a little hands-on training seemed like the best idea at the time. That’s just the kind of man I am,” Sid said, a grin growing on his face. 

Sid got to his feet and stretched out his back, a sickening crack coming from it. “However, I think that’s enough training for today.” 

As Dean and Castiel walked out of the gym, Sid absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach where Dean had hit him. He lifted up his shirt to see imprinted on his defined abs the butt of the blade.

“Those two caught on pretty fast. I think Lord Death might like to meet them sooner rather than later.” 

~*~

After the training session with Sid, both boys had no more class for the rest of the day. As they made their way along the worn brick paths, Dean was humming cheerfully to himself. Cas kept pace with the happy guy, finding his good mood contagious. He even started to smile. Even with the swelling cut above his eye and dried blood smeared on half his face, Dean couldn’t wipe the glowing grin from his face. 

“Why are you so happy?” Cas asked as he tilted his head to the side, puzzled. “Half of your face is swelling and covered in blood.” 

Dean’s grin never faltered as he turned to his partner. He threw is arms up towards the sky, which was a beautiful blue with a few wispy white clouds, the sun hanging overhead. It was a warm day, not hot or cold, with a cooling breeze playing with Dean’s open over-shirt. “Dude, it’s a perfect day! The weather is perfect, and we kicked Sid’s ass at his own game!” He threw an arm around Cas’s shoulders and laughed. “Dude, we’re _awesome_!” 

“Are you…inebriated?” Cas asked. Dean shrugged his shoulders. 

“I don’t think so, but that little zap you gave me must still be doing something. I feel energized, ready to take on the world. Even a pissed-off Satanist ghost couldn’t trip me up!” To emphasize the point, he jumped up and clicked his heels mid-air. Suddenly he started running, yelling over his shoulder “Race you home!” before leaving Cas in the dust. Even with his heavy boots, Dean was incredibly fast. It took Castiel everything to keep up with Dean the whole way back, but it felt good to run without a care in the world.

Dean and Cas hit the apartment door at the same time, almost knocking the thing down as they tumbled inside. Dean landed on his back, laughing between breathes. Even Cas, who had managed to keep upright, was laughing. It was a pretty odd sound coming from such a straight-laced guy, like a rumble of thunder off in the distance. 

“Get up, you idiot,” Cas tried to say sternly, but there was affection under the gruff. He helped Dean to his feet, who was still grinning like a goof. Castiel pushed him towards the bathroom, pointing towards the cut on Dean’s head. “You should go clean up and bandage that.”

Dean, bloody and with a swollen knot on his head, said with a laugh “Okay, _Mom_ ,” before ambling off to the bathroom. Cas heard the water in the sink run for several minutes, and even a few colorful swears from Dean (turned out Cas’s ‘zap’ did not make him numb to pain for long). He sat on the couch, resting his eyes, when he heard Dean announce “Gonna grab a new shirt,” and head into the bedroom. 

Several minutes later, Cas opened his eyes to see Dean still had not returned. Vaguely concerned, the weapon slowly wandered into their shared room, only to see Dean toppled over on his bunk, snoring softly, naked from the waist up. 

_He must have sat down to change and just passed out_ , Castiel realized, and shook his head. Fearing that he might get a cold, Cas snuck over and grabbed the comforter from his bunk to throw over Dean’s body, but paused for a moment. Castiel’s eyes wandered over Dean’s well-defined muscles and abs. His skin was mostly smooth and slightly tanned, except for a few small scars—souvenirs from a rough past. 

When he realized he was staring, he averted his eyes to the ceiling and quickly tossed the blanket on his partner. The boy snuggled into it and sighed. “Thanks,” Dean muttered, before turning over and started to snore again. 

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying the fun! Please, remember to leave kudos or comments so I know I'm loved :)


	9. The Art of Pick-Up Lines

A couple hours later Dean awoke with a huge yawn, feeling exhausted but content. He lay on the bed with his hands behind his head, letting himself blink the sleep from his eyes. Looking down, he realized that he was 1) completely shirtless and 2) covered in a blanket that wasn’t his. _Wow, I passed out while changing my shirt? Well, at least he had the sense to cover me up for modesty’s sake._

Dean was feeling like his usual self again; the happy-go-lucky attitude from earlier had faded away, so he got up (but was already missing the warmth of the bed) and grabbed a clean shirt. The mirror in the bathroom revealed that the swelling had gone down around his forehead, though the bandage hid the worst of the cut. His stomach rumbled loudly and he realized he was famished. 

He wandered into the living room and found Cas sitting on the couch with a book in his lap, his head on his hand. It took a second to realize Cas’s eyes were closed and his was breathing peacefully. Dean actually paused, and watched in an almost hypnotized state. Despite living with Castiel for a few weeks now, he’d never actually seen the other boy sleeping. It was disconcerting, to say the least. 

“Aw, Robocop’s tuckered himself out,” Dean whispered to himself with a snicker. He started tiptoeing through the room, towards the door. There was no food in the apartment, so he was going to have to go and get some, but he didn’t want to wake Castiel. He had almost made it to the door, only a foot away with his hand halfway to the doorknob even, when his stomach betrayed him with the loudest roar he’d ever heard. 

_Son of a bitch!_ He thought to himself as he winced, hoping Cas had slept through the racket. Looking over, he found Cas looking at him, eyes only half open.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked, and Dean sighed. 

“Trying to be quiet,” Dean said in defeat. 

“Well, you’re terrible at it,” the weapon said as he closed to book to stretch. 

“Hey, just finish your nap, Sleepin’ Beauty. Just gonna get some food, be back in a bit.” 

Cas shook his head adamantly. He stood while covering his mouth, a large yawn escaping him. His short, dark-brown hair, usually a little ruffled, was even more a wild mess. His buttoned shirt was also a bit wrinkled from the jousting earlier, and the blue tie he normally worn was missing. Cas always took it off before physical training. 

“Need sustenance,” Cas said, and without another word he followed his roommate to the school cafeteria, about half a mile away. 

It was a little after the dinner rush so they found an empty booth quickly. Dean, with his cheeseburger and fries, shook his head sadly when Cas sat down with a salad, vegetarian lasagna, and several pieces of fruit. “More rabbit food? Man, you’re never gonna get big muscles eating that stuff.” 

He held up his burger to make his point. “This is man’s food.” 

“That’s a heart attack on a bun. I’ve been eating this way all my life, and my muscles have grown to an acceptable size.”

“Yeah, well….mine tastes better,” Dean said.

“To each his own,” Cas simply said. 

After a few moments of silent eating, Dean suddenly grinned. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite trio.”

Castiel looked back to see Sam and his two partners across the room, looking for a place to sit. 

“Hey, bookworm and company!” Dean called out cheerfully. Sam looked over, startled. Ruby rolled her eyes and leaned towards Meg, some comment making her chuckle. 

Sam’s hesitation caused Dean to wave his arm at them, thinking they hadn’t seen him. When Sam continued to stand awkwardly, Dean called out “Hey, we don’t bite I promise!” 

Finally, though Ruby looked less than pleased, Sam started towards their booth. 

Castiel turned back to Dean. “I thought you didn’t like Ruby?” 

Dean winked. “What can I say, I’m a sucker for brunettes with attitude.” 

As they walked up, Dean smacked Cas’s shoulder. “Make room, you heathen!” he said with a grin. His grin faltered, however, when both girls sat next to Cas instead of next to him. Taking it in stride, he hid his pout by moving over. “Take a seat, Sammy,” Dean said good-naturedly. 

“Um thanks. And it’s just Sam,” he said, sitting next to Dean. 

“Isn’t that what I said?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. 

Sam sighed. “Whatever,” he mumbled under his breathe. 

The table was quiet for a few moments, everyone hiding the awkward silence by eating. Eventually, Dean decided to break the ice, the only way he knew how. He finished his burger, and narrowed his eyes at the girls while putting on his most winning smile. 

“You know, I kept getting this weird feeling of déjà vu whenever I saw you girls, but I think I just figured it out. See, I saw these two comets streak across the night sky as I drove to the academy. I have a 1969 Chevelle, see. And now I get it; you two are the angels that fell from heaven that night, aren’t you?” he asked sincerely. The delivery was so flawless it had taken the others a few seconds to work out what he said. 

Castiel’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, looking at Meg and Ruby. “You two are…angels?” he asked in confusion. 

Meg looked at Ruby, eyes wide in shock. “Ruby! Why didn’t you tell me we were angels?!” 

Ruby returned her fork to her plate. “I’m sorry Meg…”she said, body shaking with laughter. “I thought you knew?....Hahaha!” 

“So, Dean, how long have you been working on that little gem of yours?” Meg asked. 

“Ever since I met you,” Dean admitted with a playful wink.

Sam glared at Dean. “Did you call me over here just so you could hit on my partners?”

Dean smirked and shrugged. “It was an added benefit of your company,” he said. 

Everyone got a decent laugh from the exchange, though Cas still looked confused. Meg took pity on him and explained. “It’s called a pick-up line, Castiel. Guys usually use them to win over a girl’s affection, but it usually just makes them look like an ass,” she said, looking Dean right in the eyes as she said so, though the crinkles around her eyes ruined any seriousness she tried to convey. “Besides, Dean,” she said a little louder, “don’t you think that line would be more appropriate for the ‘Angel’ you already have?”

“Ooooh,” said Ruby and Sam together, watching the back and forth intensify with delight. 

Dean blushed fiercely, but he tried to brush it off. “I can assure you, I don’t swing that way,” Dean affirmed. 

Meg nodded. “Well, if you keep it up with lines like that, you won’t be swinging any way.” 

“And big sister wins again!” Ruby said, sticking her tongue out at Dean. 

“Alright, alright, save it,” Sam said, though he was still grinning ear to ear. 

Dean hated being the butt of any jokes, but he put on a brave face so they wouldn’t think he couldn’t take a little teasing. 

“So,” he said, eager to change the subject. “How’s been going on in gym class?”

Sam looked at him curiously. “Yeah, that’s right, you haven’t been there since the first day of class, right?”

“Skipping physical training class at a school for hunting monsters? That sounds like a surefire way to get your dumbass killed,” Ruby said. 

“We haven’t been skipping class. We got moved up to the big leagues,” Dean said proudly. “Sid’s been training us himself.” 

“Remedial classes starting the first day? It takes a special kind of idiot to pull that off,” Meg said. 

Castiel spoke up before Dean could respond. “Both Dean and I have previous hand-to-hand combat training. Sid decided to train us himself so we could go into the field faster.” 

“What sort of training do you have at 16?” Sam asked curiously. 

“He’s a warrior monk, and I’m a hunter,” Dean said, popping a fry into his mouth.

All eyes looked at Cas. The weapon squirmed uncomfortably under their gaze. “I’m not a monk,” he simply stated. 

“So, how exactly does shooting Bambi give you combat training?” Ruby asked snidely. 

“What? No, not that kind of hunter. A Hunter. Someone who kills monsters the good, old-fashioned way; with iron, salt, and silver.” 

Sam chocked on his sip of water. After a few coughs to clear his throat, he gave Dean a surprised look. “You mean…you’re an actual monster hunter?”

“Yep. Raised in the life for the past twelve years,” he said with a grin. He lifted up the left sleeve of his t-shirt, revealing a shiny patch of skin, a healed burn. “Acid from a Death Worm, two years ago. Nasty worms that live in deserts. They can kill by electrocution or spitting acid, luckily it only grazed me or I’d be missing the whole arm.” 

“Holy crap,” Sam said. Even Meg and Ruby looked impressed. Castiel worked vaguely worried. “Does that hurt?” he asked with concern in his voice. 

“Nah,” Dean said with a shrug. “Like I said, I got lucky.” 

“This is pretty incredible,” Sam said excitedly. “I mean, I’ve read about Hunters and stuff, but to actually meet one, this is too cool.” 

“Just calm down, Poindexter, or I might think you’re coming onto me,” Dean grinned. 

“I promise, Dean, not everyone is throwing themselves at you,” Meg said in a conspirator’s whisper. 

“Haha,” he said, his grin disappearing. 

Everyone finished their meals, the feeling around the table much more relaxed that when they started. “Well, we gotta get going,” Sam said after a few moments. “Homework and stuff.” 

“Don’t hurt that brain of yours with all that responsibility,” Dean said with a grin. Sam scoffed at him. “Yeah, uh, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Hey,” Dean said, causing them to turn towards him. “Same time, same place tomorrow?” Dean asked, hopefully. Ruby looked at Sam and shrugged. Sam nodded after a moment, “Sure.” 

Meg gave Dean a calculating look. “Are you going to have another pick-up line to try on us?”

Dean looked up, thinking. “It might not be as polished as that gem earlier, but I think I can whip up a little something.” 

“Then count me in,” Meg said. She pointedly winked at Castiel, though. “See you tomorrow, Castiel,” she said with a smile. Castiel gave her an unsure wave back. Dean didn’t even bother to hide the glare he shot Cas’s way.

~*~

“Dude, don’t you dare start hittin’ on my ladies!” Dean hissed angrily at Cas the second the others had left the room. 

Castiel tiled his head while giving Dean an intense stare. “I never lifted a hand towards them,” he said, eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“Don’t act coy. I saw them first!” 

“They aren’t commodities to be possessed, Dean. They’re people.” 

Dean threw up his hands in frustration. “That’s not what I—dammit, Cas, stop changing the subject!” he said, grabbing his empty plates and leaving the table, Castiel following behind, still confused. 

“Now, what am I gonna do? I know she doesn’t actually care what I say, she’ll make fun of me, but maybe if I play along, she’ll give me her number….” Dean muttered to himself as they left the cafeteria. 

“Whose number are you after?”

“Well, Meg’s preferably. That low drawl, ho boy,” he said.

“Well, why don’t you just ask her for it? Why use pick-up lines?” 

Dean stopped walking down the sidewalk, and put his hand on Cas’s shoulder to stop him. “Because, Cas, that’s not how that works! If I just ask her outright, it’ll be more likely she’ll just say no and I’ll never get another chance. If I play along, pretend her jabs don’t bother me, she’ll eventually get won over by my charming personality.” 

Castiel processed this for a moment. “Why not show her the inventions you make when you should be working on homework? Those are accurate indications of intelligence and technical prowess.” 

Dean actually blushed at Castiel’s compliments, though he covered it with an awkward chuckle. “Cas, thanks for the awesome self-esteem boost, but I’m pretty sure my reverse-engineering an EMF reader from an old Walkman isn’t exactly a real draw for the ladies.” 

Castiel simply shook his head at Dean, and actually started walking first. “There are just some things I’ll never understand,” he said simply as he walked away. 

~*~

“Hey Sam, were you serious about hanging out with those dweebs again tomorrow?” Ruby asked loudly from her and Meg’s room. The girls had finished getting ready for bed, wearing matching t-shirts and boy shorts for pajamas. 

Sam poked his head into the doorway to their bedroom, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. “That a problem?” he mumbled around the foam and bristles. 

“Ruby’s just jealous because Dean wasn’t throwing himself at her during dinner,” Meg teased. 

“Shut up, that jock isn’t my type,” Ruby said with a slight shudder. “Does he only talk in mixed-up pick-up lines?”

Sam rolled his eyes and returned to the bathroom to spit. 

“Ah, so you’re into the socially awkward one,” Meg said with a cheeky grin. 

“Strike two. Neither one of those jerks is anywhere near my radar.” 

“Hey Sam,” Meg called out, a mischievous look on her face. She winked at Ruby. “If you had to choose, would you go out with socially awkward Castiel or badass-wannabe Dean?” 

There was a sputtering, choking noise from the bathroom, and the girls began madly cackling. 

“Choose…? What the hell—why in the—that’s gross, you two are ridiculous!” Sam poked his head back in, sans toothbrush, his face scrunched up in an angry pout. “What is it with you two and asking me awkward crap like that?”

“Good way to pass the time,” Meg said evilly. 

“Well, knock it off! I’m going to bed and am pretending this conversation never happened,” Sam said, disappearing into the other bedroom and closing the door.

“Good night, Sammy!” both girls called out in tandem. 

“It’s Sam, dammit!” came the muffled reply. 

“Time for bed, sis,” Ruby said, tumbling onto the bottom bunk, black hair everywhere. 

Meg turned out the light and climbed up into her bed. As she lay on her back, hands behind her head, eyes staring forward but not actually looking at anything, she smiled. _I suppose the question is; which one’s my type? Guess I’ll just have to play it by ear._


	10. Training Sammy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This project's been a load of fun, and I hope you've been enjoying it too.

~*~  
The next day Sam, Ruby, and Meg were already sitting in a larger booth meant for 6 people when Dean and Castiel arrived, trays of food in hand. Both boys looked tired, and as they slide into the booth (Dean managed to sit next to Meg and Ruby, Cas next to Sam), the colorful bruise around Dean’s left eye caught everyone attention. 

“What happened to you?” Meg asked. 

Dean looked at her, and smirked. “Well, when we were walking over here I caught a glimpse of you sitting here. I was so enchanted I ran into that pillar over there, so I’m going to need your number for insurance purposes, please.”

Meg chuckled. “Not your best work, but not bad for thinking on your feet.” 

Both Ruby and Sam rolled their eyes. Castiel looked at them. “Dean wasn’t fast enough to dodge Sid,” he explained. 

“That sounds a lot more accurate,” Ruby said. “My sister isn’t all that.” 

Meg elbowed Ruby hard in the side. “Mind your tongue.” 

“Wait, Sid is actually beating the crap out of you during practice?” Sam asked. “He doesn’t come near the rest of us in class when we have sparring practice.” 

“Probably does it because we can handle a little tough love,” Dean said. “He’s a sadistic bastard, though. Ow.” 

Meg looked at Castiel, quietly eating his salad, her eyes traveling over him. “How come it doesn’t look like you went a few rounds with Apollo Creed?” she asked. 

Castiel spoke, but did not look up. “Well, I was in weapon form for the most part, but Dean did drop me a few times.”

“It does not count as me dropping you when Sid kicks you out of my hand and across the room,” Dean clarified. 

“Typical butterfingers,” Ruby said. 

“Hey, at least you two are up and walking,” Sam said. “Sid’s a level three meister. He could kill you with his pinkie.” 

“You make it sound like he hasn’t been trying to,” Dean grumbled, wincing as he munched on a fry. 

A few minutes of silence passed between everyone as they ate their meals. 

“Well, hey there, Dean-o!” said a chipper voice, and everyone looked to see two people standing at the end of their booth. One was a guy with brown hair combed back and amber eyes, grinning at them. The other was a darker-skinned, thin girl with a red top and black jeans, her long black hair pulled back into a pony tail. Her eyes were narrowed, and her lips were pursed. Both were holding trays of food.

“Gabriel!” Dean said, swallowing a bite of hamburger. “I was wondering when you were gonna show back up.” 

“Mind if we sit?” Gabriel asked, and even though the booth was full, everyone shifted over to allow Gabriel on one side and Kali on the other. 

“Everyone, this is Gabriel, and his lovely meister Kali,” Dean said. 

Kali looked at Dean suspiciously. “How do you know my name?”

Dean grinned. “You’re reputation precedes you.” Kali narrowed her eyes, and Dean held up his hands in surrender. “Trust me, it’s nothing but good news.” 

Afterwards, introductions were made around the table. Meg and Ruby looked happy to have another female at the table. 

“Kali Shivan? Of Shivan Industries?” Sam asked.

“What’s it to you?” 

“Wow. You’re the heir to the biggest munitions and warhead manufacturing company this side of the Pacific! Wow, how’d your parents handle you being accepted into the DWMA? Ma’am,” he added after a moment. 

Kali simply tilted her head up, to look down her nose at him. “Finally, someone who knows the respect the Shivan name commands. To answer your question, my parents were very proud. Being a graduate of the DWMA opens doors into all sorts of business negotiations and powerful allegiances. Only good things will come from this.” 

“Major money,” Ruby whispered into Meg’s ear. 

“I suddenly feel like I’m not good enough to be at my own table,” Dean said, thoroughly impressed and feeling like the new girl was waaaaay out of his league. 

“She has that effect,” Gabriel said, munching on a cookie. “Get used to craning your neck to see her on her high horse, boys. And girls.” 

Dean turned to say something to Gabriel, but his eyes got hung up on the cookies, pie, cake, and candy piled up on his tray. “Geez, Gabe, sweet tooth much?” 

Gabriel sighed. “First of all, it’s Gabriel. Secondly,” he said, pointing to the pie. “There’s fruit in there. It’s healthy.” 

“Eating that much processed sugar could lead to insulin resistance, which would increase your chances of developing diabetes,” Castiel said. 

Gabriel leaned over, his golden eyes boring into clear blue ones, than elbowed him in the side. “Glad to see you’re just as literal, and that your sense of humor is just as non-existent, as ever. By the way, never got to thank you for ruining my fun with Dean last time.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “You’re welcome,” the weapon said, almost a little threateningly. 

“Hey, hey, no harm, no foul,” Dean said, the tension between Cas and Gabe getting pretty uncomfortable. 

The groups of teenagers around the table looked like a strange hodge podge. Gabriel, with his prankster attitude and mountain of sugary food in front of him, was wearing ripped jeans and a plain t-shirt. There was a permanent smirk on his mouth and a mischievous glint in his amber, almost golden eyes.

Castiel, in his typical button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and crooked blue tie, was quietly eating his salad while deep in thought. 

Sam was just a few inches taller than everyone else, with his baggy plain t-shirt and jeans, a closed book on his lap. He kept sneaking glances at Gabriel. Whether it was because of how the guy’s hair and eyes were the same color, or how he could survive eating that much sugar without going into a diabetic coma and dying was unclear.

Across the table, Ruby and Meg wore black jeans, biker boots, black tank tops, and leather jackets, eating pizza and fries. They seemed to be having a conversation that only consisted of glances, facial expressions, and choked back laughter.

Dean did not stop grinning, considering he was sitting between Meg and Kali, burger long gone and fries not far behind. Hopefully, his charm would wear off on at least one of the girls the table. 

Kali, despite the cramped quarters of the booth, managed to fit a few inches of space between old faded t-shirt, ripped jeans and bruised Dean and herself. Her red blouse and black slacks easily cost what Bobby made selling car parts in a few months. She sat with his back straight, eating her sushi with chopsticks perfectly, not bothering to look at anyone at the table. 

Sam grabbed the cup of coffee in its little disposable cup once his meal was finished and, finding it cool enough to drink, pressed it to his lips. Halfway through the sip, his face scrunched up into a horrible visage of pain and disgust, and he actually had to cover his mouth to not spit the liquid out. He was able to swallow the disgusting liquid, but just barely. 

“Dude, you all right?” Dean asked, seeing the entire thing. 

“Oh, my god, what the hell did they do to this coffee?!” Sam sputtered, holding the cup away with his arm fully extended. “God, it’s _disgusting_!” 

Gabriel looked equally concerned, but Dean knew better than most, and he managed to catch the mischievous twinkle in the little guy’s eyes. 

“Gabe, _really_? You just met the guy,” Dean admonished. Gabe sighed and rolled his eyes. Apparently Dean was programmed to give people nicknames whether they wanted them or not. _What’s the point in fighting it?_ he thought to himself. 

Sam whipped around and leaned forward so he could glare at him around Castiel. “You did this?”

Gabe, a lollipop in his mouth, shrugged good-naturedly. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t specifically aimed at you, Sam. It was an equal opportunity pranking.” 

“Let me guess….replaced the sugar with salt?” Dean asked, and Sam made another disgusted face as he grabbed Ruby’s half-full glass of water and emptied it.

“Dude, get your own!” she said. 

Gabriel grinned, and as if to make his point there was another loud noise of disgust, and everyone looked to see several tables around people with coffee cups were making disgusted faces that mirrored Sam’s. 

“Though the trick is unoriginal, the execution ain’t bad,” Dean said. “How’d you manage changing all the sugar to salt?”

Gabriel simply grinned, and waved his finger at them. “Ah, ah, ah. Magician’s don’t reveal their secrets.” 

Kali had been eating her food with her eyes closed, mouth drawn into a line; however, as she dabbed her mouth with a napkin, Gabriel caught the edge of her mouth turn up into a grin. _Atta girl, acknowledge my awesomeness!_

Kali opened her eyes and looked at Gabriel. “If my partner is done causing mischief and giving himself a life-time of cavities, it’s time to take our leave,” she said. 

Gabriel didn’t bother to hide his pout. “Come on, Kali. Live a little! Speaking to other kids who aren’t worth a few million bucks is good for you.” 

Everyone became slack-jawed a little (except Sam, who was still suffering the after effects of salted coffee, and Castiel who eyes widened instead). 

“You aren’t getting out of shooting practice that easily,” she said, ignoring their looks, instead walking away, leaving him behind. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to the table as he got up. “I’m still trying to get that stick dislodged. She’s actually not as much an ice queen as she comes off. I think she was actually nervous.” 

“Well, no one’s perfect,” Dean said, grinning. “Nerves make people do weird things.”

“You don’t say?” Ruby asked incredulously. Dean stuck his tongue out at her.

“Catch ya later, losers!” Gabriel said with a grin, and had to walk quickly to catch up to his taller meister.

“What’s wrong, Dean? You didn’t throw yourself at her every time you spoke,” Meg said. “You might want to go and make sure Sid’s little love tap didn’t give you a concussion.” 

Dean elbowed her in the side. “Shut up, Meg.” 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said, catching his attention. “You’ve been hunting for a while, right? And, you’ve hunted all kinds of monsters, right?”

“Yeah to both questions. Why?”

Sam leaned forward, a determined look on his face. “Could you teach me some fighting moves? And about monsters? How to find them, how to kill them?”

Dean’s green eyes looked over Sam for a moment, trying to figure out the kid’s angle. _He’s too determined to just be curious,_ he realized. Sam fixed a stare on him that could have given Castiel a run for his money. 

“Hey, Sam, you do realize you’re going to a school that’s entirely dedicated to killing monsters. Why take the advice from this joker?” Ruby said, motioning towards Dean. 

“It’s not kishins I want to know about,” he said simply. 

_Yep, he’s up to something,_ Dean thought. _I can’t just tell him stuff and let him go off half-cocked and get killed, though._

“Can’t see why not. I mean, who am I to deny someone the opportunity to kick monster ass?” Dean said. 

“That’s great!” Sam said. 

Dean raised a hand, making him pause. “Before I start telling you anything, I need to see what you’re working with. Meet me in the gym in an hour, got it?”

Sam grinned, but it wasn’t one of mirth, it was a forced smile. “Alright, see you then,” he said, and everyone parted ways, the girls following Sam while Cas followed Dean out a different exit. 

“Dean, what are you doing? Don’t you think this is reckless? What if Sam tries to hunt something and gets hurt?” Cas bombarded him with questions. 

“Cool it, Cas. I already thought that stuff through. First off, I’m not gonna tell him everything I know about the business and let him go play hunter! I figure showing him so more advanced fighting tricks isn’t that dangerous. He gets better, we get better, and Sid can’t kick our ass as badly every day.” 

Castiel thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, but will you be up for it? Normally you’d be exhausted by now.” 

“I’m fine! My eye hurts like hell, but I’ve had worse, trust me. Believe me, I’m not going to let anything happen to that kid. I couldn’t forgive myself if anyone got hurt on my accord,” Dean said somberly. 

~*~

Dean and Sam were standing on the practice mats in the gym, shoes and jackets gone. Ruby, Meg, and Castiel stood away from the mats, watching. Both girls had their arms across their chests, but Castiel’s hands were in his pockets, eyes narrowed as he watched them. He was slightly worried. Despite Dean’s protests, Sid hadn’t just grazed him earlier; Cas was worried that he might hurt himself, or even Sam by accident. Sid was a teacher of fighting styles, but Dean was a kid, just like the rest of them. 

“Alright,” Dean said, bouncing on his toes and shaking out his arms, getting the blood pumping. “This is a little spar, that’s all. No weapons, and we aren’t trying to kill each other either. Just try to hit me,” he said. “Okay, just not this eye, if possible.” 

“You sure?” Sam asked. The bravado from earlier seemed to be replaced with a slight case of nerves. 

“Yep. Now, come on grasshopper, I don’t have all night,” Dean said, motioning for Sam to come at him. 

Sam closed his eyes, took a deep breathe, and launched himself at Dean as fast as possible, trying to tackle him to the ground. Dean easily sidestepped the attempt. 

“Come on dude, my 10 year-old sister is more original than that!” Dean taunted. 

Sam righthened himself on the other side of the mat, looking over Dean, clenching his jaw. Sam took a few steps forwardly, almost tentatively, but flew forward with his fist out, going for Dean’s jaw. 

Again, Dean stepped to the side, but he grabbed Sam’s arm as he went past and used his momentum to sling him onto his back. Sam landed with a loud “oomph!” the wind knocked out of him. “Ow,” he moaned, rubbing his head. 

Dean stood over him and offered him a hand up. As Sam got back to his feet, Dean slapped him good naturedly on the shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, Sammy. Remember, I’m a—“

Suddenly, Dean was grabbed by his arm and flung over Sam’s hip, landing on his back. Once he got his breathe back, he propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at the smug look on Sam’s face. “Smug, Sammy?” Dean asked, and before Sam could respond Dean swung his leg around and hit the back of Sam’s knee, crumpling him to the mat next to him. 

“Crap, that hurt,” Sam hissed, rubbing the back of his leg. 

“Come on, Sam, kick his ass!” Ruby called out. 

“Aw, someone’s got a fan-girl,” Dean teased, rolling away from Sam’s fist. He got back to his feet, mirroring Sam, who was looking a little winded. 

“Not bad, Sammy,” Dean grinned. “Good to see you’re a quick study. That’s a lifesaver right there. Now, let’s try that again, but without the attitude.”


	11. Meeting Lord Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel get their first assignment!

They fell into a routine that continued for the next week. Classes were in the morning, followed by Sid’s personal training sessions in the afternoon. After eating dinner with everyone, Dean and Sam would spar for about an hour or so. Sometimes they’d even do homework and sleep became a commodity.

Sometimes Gabriel and Kali would eat dinner with them, sometimes they weren’t seen outside of class. Most of the time there was laughing and arguing around the booth during dinner as everyone became comfortable in the new gang. And almost every night Sam would pester Dean with questions about monsters. (“Do stakes kill vampires?” “Nope, you gotta cut off its head. And don’t bother with garlic, either. I heard a story about an amateur hunter who thought garlic would work. The vampires ate garlic bread in front of him, using his blood as marinara sauce that they drained slowly from his body. Dumb bastard got saved, but it was a lesson he never forgot.”)

Sam was a fast learner, and over the course of a week had gotten good enough to make Dean wary as they spared. That, combined with Sid’s everyday lessons, meant that the new meisters were getting stronger at the speed of light. 

“Watch out for his leg, Sam” Meg called, standing on the side as the two meisters tussled. 

“Get him in the ‘nads!” Ruby yelled, sounding more bloodthirsty than was necessary. 

_He puts his weight on his left leg when he aims high, and he always crouches when going for the left,_ Castiel sent Dean over their telepathic link. 

“I’ve got this, Cas,” Dean grunted as Sam’s arm wrapped around Dean’s neck from behind. 

Ruby and Meg turned to look at Cas. “Giving him advice mentally is cheating!” Ruby said. 

“How is this cheating if he’s too stubborn to take it?” Castiel muttered darkly. 

Sam wasn’t loosening the hold on his neck, and it was getting hard to breathe. With the last of his energy, Dean doubled over, which pulled Sam over his hip and slammed him down onto the ground. Sam lay there, slightly dazed, and Dean stood gasping. 

“Jesus Sam, you do remember I’m the good guy, right?” Dean asked, rubbing his neck gingerly. 

“Sorry, sorry. You okay?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just keep the anger in check, Incredible Dork,” he said, helping Sam up with a grin. 

“Alright I think that might be enough for one day,” Dean said. Sam rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassment coloring his checks. 

As they climbed off the mat, there was a familiar clearing of the throat, and everyone turned to see Sid off to the side, watching them. 

“Only been here a few weeks and already undermining my authority, huh Dean?” Sid asked. “I’m curious what makes you think you’re qualified to teach other students when you can hardly handle me?”

Dean and Sam froze on the mat, and the weapons looked a little nervous as well. 

“Well, he asked, first of all,” Dean said, and Sam whipped around to face him, a hurt look on his face as he realized he was tossed unceremoniously under the bus. “And secondly, we aren’t doing anything wrong. Just tutoring a friend.” 

Sid gave them another stern look, but then broke into a grin. “Never said you were. I like you Dean, and I don’t have a problem with your friends, either. However, I’m not here to bust you.” He looked over everyone. “Dean and Castiel, you are wanted by Lord Death.” 

“Lord—Death?” Castiel said, eyes wide in complete shock. 

“Why does the big guy want to see us?” Dean asked. 

“I’m not the kind of man to spoil a surprise,” Sid said. “Go to the Death Room as quickly as possible, and behave yourselves in Death’s presence,” he said.

To Sam and the girls, Sid made a “shooing” motion. “I expect to see those moves in class tomorrow, Sam,” Sid said with a grin. Sam nodded, and as he watched Dean and Castiel follow Sid, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

Ruby and Meg looked at Sam, who seemed to be slightly shaking in anger, and looked at each other, clearly unsure of what to do. “Sam?” Ruby asked. “What’s up?” Meg said.

 _I’m tired of being abandoned. I’m not useless! I can fight, I can win, just give me a chance, dammit!_ He thought. The shaking stopped, and after a few breaths he looked at his partners and shrugged. “Nothing’s up. Come on, we have an essay due tomorrow,” he said, pushing past them. Meg and Ruby followed their meister, not pushing the issue further.

~*~

They dealt with their nervousness in different ways as they waited inside the Death Room, Death nowhere to be seen. Castiel sat in one of the little plastic chairs for waiting, hands clasped in his lap and eyes far away in silent contemplation. Dean was sitting next to him, partially wanting to clasp him on the back and reassure the weapon, but instead kept his hands behind his lead as he leaned backwards, trying to calm himself. “You going to be okay, Castiel?” he asked quietly. 

Cas seemed to return to himself, and turned his head towards Dean, looking more confident. “I’m fine, Dean. Are you?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said dismissively, trying to hide his nervousness. “Meeting the Grim Reaper is nothing to get worked up about, is it?”

“That’s what I keep _trying_ to tell people!” came a cheerful, almost squeaky voice from behind them. They both whipped around to see Spirit, the scythe, and the Grim Reaper standing next to him. Towering over him, actually. 

Dean wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, but the high-pitched voice coming from tall, thin figure clad in a black robe and wearing a cartoonish skull mask was not what he was expecting. _Is he… wearing a pair of white foam hands?_ He wondered, looking at Death’s oversized hands to his sides. 

Death leaned to the side, almost doubled over, taking them in. He glided forward, and held out a hand towards Dean. Putting on a smile that was strained with nerves, he shook the hand. “Um, hi…Lord Death,” he said. 

“Dean! It’s so nice to finally meet you in the flesh!” Death said, energetically shaking his hand. “And this is Castiel, the Angel Blade, right? Nice to meet both of you!” 

“Wait a second,” Dean said, causing Death to pause. “If you’re the Reaper, shouldn’t you be out—ya know, _reaping_? Or does nobody die when you’re in the office?” 

Death turned around, and even though there were no eyes in the sockets, Dean could still feel the intense stare Death had fixed on him. “No, Dean, people are still dying. Think of me as the Vice President in Death Industries, and the reapers you know of are our entry level employees.” 

Castiel snapped out of his shocked reverie (he did just shake hands with the Reaper, after all) and asked “Wait, if you’re the V.P. who’s the President?”

“No one to concern yourself with,” Death said, waving the question away. “There’s more pressing business to be discussed. There’s currently a job available, and I want you on the case,” Death said, looking at Dean. 

“Um, but Lord Death, sir, aren’t jobs usually listed on the bulletin board for students to choose themselves?” Castiel asked. 

“Normally, yes. However, I feel that this particular job would be handled better by someone with Dean’s qualifications.” 

_A hunt?_ Dean realized. _Well, that’s odd._ “What’s the job?”

To answer his question, Spirit appeared holding a portable radio, and lifted in onto a table that seemed to appear from nowhere. Spirit clicked the radio on, and a smooth male voice was speaking slowly, almost hypnotically. 

“A friendly desert community, where sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome--”

“To Night Vale,” Castiel finished, causing Death and Spirit to turn and look at him. As the musical introduction continued, Cas ducked his head so he didn’t have to see them staring. “I listen to the show sometimes at night when I can’t sleep.” He looked up at Dean and shrugged. “Cecil’s voice is very soothing.”

“Yes, that is true,” Death said. “And let’s not get started on him and Carlos!”

“I’m sorry, what does a radio show have to do with hunting?” Dean interjected before Castiel and Death could bond over their mutual love of the show. Both glared daggers at him.

“If you listened to show, you’d know that there are all sorts of reasons for a hunter to go to Night Vale,” Cas stated. 

Lord Death held up his hands to stop them from further bombarding him with questions. “Let me start at the beginning. Night Vale is a small town about thirty miles from Death City. Twice a month they release a radio broadcast outside the town, but Night Vale isn’t a typical place. It’s a hotspot for paranormal activity, inter-dimensional travel, bizarre accidents, and unusual beings. You could just work in Night Vale for the rest of your life and never run out of things to hunt,” Death said to Dean. 

“That sounds exceptionally dangerous. Count me in!” Dean said with a smirk. 

“Anyway, an informant has told me that a kishin has set up shop in the town. Several people have gone missing, presumed dead. We need you to go check out the town and destroy to kishin, Dean and Castiel. I know you’re one-star meisters, but I’m confident that you can handle this.” 

“Alright,” Dean said. “But that doesn’t explain why you want me to go. It sounds like a regular kishin-egg hunt, why did you want me?

“Night Vale is a strange place, Dean. Kishin-eggs that are attracted there are not the only monsters that go bump in the night there. I want you to go because you have more experience than any other meisters in your class currently. If anything else is acting up in Night Vale, you are qualified to handle it. Now, shoo! I’ll be rooting for you!” 

~*~

Once the boys left, Spirit turned towards his boss. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Sir?” he asked Lord Death. “Normally students have been training at least two-three months before going into the field.”

Death leaned over, somehow able to convey a questioning look through the mask. “Normally, that is true. However, we’ve never had a Hunter as a meister! He’s already a few steps ahead of the rest of his class, and the kishin-egg’s arrival was perfect timing. I’m positive both he and Castiel will do fine!” 

Spirit rubbed his temple, and hoped the Reaper was right. 

~*~

The road was a lonely two lane bit of asphalt, completely devoid of any other traffic. Around them was expansive desert, complete with high rock twisted by millennia of wind, and sparse vegetation. The real show was overhead, however; there being not a single sign of civilization aside from the road, so the stars were the only lights. They shone clearly in the clear night, a billion pinpricks of light through an ebony cloth. Castiel had spent most of the ride looking up into the night sky, Dean in charge of driving his Chevelle towards Night Vale. 

He glanced over at his partner, and a small grin spread over his face. He remembered staring up into clear night skies like this when he was younger, when his Mom or Dad were driving to or from a hunt. No matter how scared he had been for his parents (or for himself when was older and working with them) looking up into the sky and getting lost amongst the stars always calmed his nerves. Maybe after this, we’ll stop and look at the stars for a while, he thought. He imagined pulling the bulky car over, and both he and Cas sitting on the hood and gazing up into the heavens, drinking sodas in companionable silence after a job well done. 

_Come on Dean, we haven’t ganked this sucker yet!_ He berated himself. 

As Cas continued to be lost in the stars, Dean pushed a cassette into the deck, and turned up the music, singing along under his breath. “Carry on, my wayward So-o-on, there’ll be peace when you are do-one--”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	12. WTNV 1- Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean knows weird. Hell, he grew up learning how to hunt weird.  
> Night Vale is a whole-new level of Twillight Zone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first off, thanks for reading and I hope you're enjoying the story!  
> Secondly, I just wanted to mention that I describe what I think Cecil looks like, but I know Cecil's appearance isn't canon, so I just wanted to say you don't have to take what I say as the final word. I just happen the like the crazier look for him. :)

_“Free yourself from whatever confines that are surrounding you, and look up towards to night sky. Look up, and lose yourself in the millions upon billions of twinkling lights, interwoven throughout the ebony cloth of space._

_“You wonder ‘Are we truly alone amongst all that?’ As you ponder this question, you must realize that, no matter if you answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ that the answer has horrifying implications either way. Welcome to Night Vale.”_

~*~

Castiel’s eyes opened wide in surprise as Dean opened the trunk of the Chevelle, and saw it was filled with talismans, guns, knives, boxes of salt, iron bars, and other various odds and ends. Surprise at the amount of artillery gave way to unabashed curiosity about the diversity of items in the trunk.

“Dean, we are hunting a kishin. Shouldn’t I be the only weapon you need?” 

Dean looked up at him and grinned. “Call it hunter’s paranoia,” he said. He took a flask of holy water and stuffed it in his jacket pocket, along with a silver knife, an iron shiv, a small baggie of salt. They parked on the edge of town, both doors open and they listened to the smooth voice of the broadcaster coming from the interior speakers. 

“That’s one hell of a welcome,” he said, shaking his head after the bizarre intro. He looked at Castiel. “And this stuff puts you to sleep like a baby? This would drive me to drink. Too much thinking for me. Let me just deal with the here and now, thank you.” 

Castiel shrugged. “What’s the plan?” he asked. 

“Well, if this were a normal case, we’d go where the information is. Not exactly sure I trust something called the ‘Sheriff’s Secret Police,’ so we’ll go to the next best place. The radio station.” 

Castiel’s jaw dropped slightly. “You mean, actually go to the broadcast station? Where Cecil is?”

Dean furrowed his brows at him. “Yeah, he’s got info, we need info.” 

Castiel suddenly smiled. Not a twitch of a smirk, not a vague grin, a full on smile. Dean was suddenly reminded of the Cheshire Cat. “I’d like that very much,” the weapon said. 

“You’re not gonna ask him for his autograph, are you?” Dean asked jokingly, but his smile faded when Castiel seemed to actual contemplate the question. “Dude. We’re on the clock!” 

“Afterwards, then,” Castiel said. He stated it so seriously that Dean just rolled his eyes. They got back into the battered car, and fully drove down Route 800 towards the station. 

~*~

_“Listeners, as I am sure you are aware, several people in Night Vale appear to have disappeared over the past week. The Sheriff’s Secret Police have no information to offer on these open investigations. They also openly admit that they have had no involvement in these disappearances. These missing people include: Maggie Thatcher, Ronald Jones, Annie Fulton, Susan Kent, and Caleb Martinez. If you have any information about these disappearances, or if you are one of the missing townspeople and have discovered that you are, in fact, found, please contact the police headquarters. You know the drill! You may simply explain yourself to an empty room; or, if you are a traditionalist, painting your door with lamb’s blood is also acceptable.”_

It was a good thing Dean was already pulling into a parking spot in front of the radio station, because he might have just jacked the brakes and forced the car to a complete stop in the middle of the highway. He looked down at his radio, then at Castiel, who was looking significantly less freaked by the latest segment. 

“‘Lamb’s blood?’ ‘Talk to an empty room?’ Cas, what the hell is going on in this town?” Dean demanded. 

“This is actually pretty par for the course, if the other broadcasts are any indication,” the weapon said calmly, looking out the windows at the quiet town around them. The radio station was not very large, but it did have a tall tower atop it with a blinking red light flashing continuously. “It’s just like I imagined it would. Quiet and quaint, yet harboring a great evil just out of sight.” 

Castiel turned back towards the driver’s seat to see Dean staring at him. “Surprisingly, I’m suddenly not as stoked about this hunt as before.” 

For once, Castiel reached over and patted Dean’s shoulder, still grinning. “It’ll be fine,” he said. 

Dean didn’t really believe him, but he didn’t really have any other choice in the matter.

~*~

_“We’ve had some interesting events occur over the past week, listeners. Let’s start this segment with some good news. During a recent press conference, the Mayor of Desert Bluffs was de-pantsed by an unknown assailant. Though the authorities cannot seem to figure out who the perpetrator was, or how they seemed to make the pants disappear instantly, we all have to agree that they totally deserved it._

_“Next week, proposition 73D will be put up to a vote, and the City Council will determine whether dinosaurs will finally be allowed the right to vote. Proponents say that, in order to enter the 21st century, the vote must be allowed. The loudest proponent voice is that of Mayoral Elect Hiram McDaniels, who claims that ‘dragons and dinosaurs are closely linked evolutionary cousins, and so to be true to ourselves we must be true to our pasts.’_

_Those that condemn the new voting amendment, claim that allowing the amendment is pointless considering dinosaurs are still classified as extinct. However, such stifling categories such as “living” and “extinct” are not so black and white. 73D has struck a chord with our little town because it attempts to blur the lines between traditional social norms and what is considered socially acceptable in the present. Stay tuned for the latest information on the Council’s 73D decision." ___

__~*~_ _

__Getting into the radio station had not presented a problem, but actually talking with the radio host, Cecil, seemed a little trickier. As the two walked through the entrance and into the tiny lobby, a young man was at a desk, writing furiously. He was only a few years older than them, and he had a blue Mohawk. The name tag on his black t-shirt read “Intern Michael.”_ _

__He looked up at the two newcomers, and his brown eyes narrowed slightly. He smiled, but only because it was a professional habit. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked._ _

__“Ah, well. Sorry for the late arrival. Is there any way we could speak to Cecil? There’s some questions we need him to answer,” Dean said, trying to sound as non-threatening and courteous as possible. Castiel was simply looking around the tiny station with a sense of curious wonder._ _

__Intern Michael scoffed. “Right. Look, buddy, he’s in the middle of a live broadcast. Why don’t you talk to him afterwards, or better yet tomorrow? Isn’t it past your curfew anyway?”_ _

__Dean stood before the desk, suddenly unsure what to do. He was way too young to try and pretend to be a Fed or a journalist like his Mom or Dad would do to get information on a case. He started thinking of ways to maybe break into the sound booth, or find out where Cecil lived and follow him to his house. However, those plans evaporated when Castiel walked up next to Dean and pulled out him school I.D._ _

__“Your I.D., Dean,” Castiel hissed. Confused but glad someone had a plan, Dean pulled out his identification card and they both flashed them to the intern._ _

__“We’re students from the DWMA, and we’re here on business,” Castiel said calmly. “We would like to speak to Mr. Palmer at his earliest convenience, please.”_ _

__Intern Michael was now wearing extremely irritated expression on his face. Before he could tell them to get lost, a woman in her mid-20s walked past, and paused to take in the scene._ _

__“Excuse me, what’s going on, Michael?” she asked as she walked over._ _

__“These two kids are trying to visit Cecil,” Michael said dismissively._ _

__The girl looked at the two teenagers, an eyebrow arched in curiosity._ _

__“I’m Castiel, and this is Dean. We’re students from the DWMA and we need to speak to Mr. Palmer,” Castiel said, putting a little more authoritative push behind his words._ _

__She looked slightly perplexed. “The DW--? Oh!” she said as realization hit her. “Yeah, totally! Cecil’s about to take a break, anyway, just follow me,” she said._ _

__Michael’s jaw dropped open slightly. “Gabby, what are you doing?” he hissed._ _

__“They’re from the DWMA, you idiot! Their like mini-Feds! If they’re here on a job, they have automatic clearance, no questions asked,” Gabby explained, and smacked his arm._ _

__As Michael rubbed his arm and glared daggers at the two boys, Gabby led them down a little hallway towards a recording studio. “Are you here about the disappearances?” she asked._ _

__“Yeah. We’re hoping to sort out whatever problem you’ve got going on here,” Dean said._ _

__“You’d be here forever, then! I’m new to town myself, and man, this place is straight up twilight zone,” she told them in a hushed tone._ _

__“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Dean said, unable to help the feeling that something was watching him. The radio station so far looked plain and boring, yet he continuously had chills racing down his spine. Even Castiel, who had looked vaguely excited at the beginning of this trip, seemed a little overwhelmed._ _

__“This place feels a little…creepier, than I previously imagined,” Castiel said, glancing over his shoulder for the third time over the course of the 20 foot hallway and turning right._ _

__“You never get used to it,” Gabby confided. She stopped them suddenly, and Dean looked to see a simple door on the left, the only door along the whole wall. The door was half clouded glass, and there was a dark shape moving inside the office. STATION MANAGEMENT, the plaque on the door read._ _

__Without warning or ceremony, Gabby immediately dropped to her hands and knees and started to silently crawl past the door. Looking over her shoulder, she rolled her eyes and motioned them forward. Dean simply stood there, not even sure which part was confusing him more. The fact that Gabby acted like this was normal, or the fact that Castiel was already on the ground, following her example._ _

__He looked at Dean, pointed at the door he was about to crawl past, and made a slicing motion across his neck. Trust me, Dean. Station Management is not to be trifled with, the weapon’s voice echoed in his mind._ _

__He took a deep breath, and got on the ground, and crawled past the door as fast as possible, cheeks burning in embarrassment. This had to have been some weird-ass hazing trick set up by Death for him, right?_ _

__Just as he passed the door, a shiver of fear racked his body, and he looked at the shadowy movement through the glass. His heart was suddenly thumping too loud, too fast, and he was becoming drenched in nervous sweat. He knew there was something in there, something downright evil, and it was going to find him, and he’d be worse than dead. Dean had hunted a wendigo, a werewolf, vampires, ghosts, but whatever was behind that normal door was more terrifying than any of those creatures combined._ _

__Suddenly, Castiel’s hands were on the front of his jacket, wrenching him out of his frozen terror, and past the door into a heap just on the other side. As soon as he was away from it, Dean felt himself come back to his senses. He looked up at Castiel, and he was slightly relieved to see that Castiel looked just as freaked out and he felt. They both looked at Gabby, and she patted them on the shoulders in sympathy._ _

__Dean clearly his throat quietly, and he hopped to his feet, helping Castiel up. He tried to pretend he hadn’t just been piss-your-pants terrified about crossing in front of a damn door. He straightened his jacket, and Castiel fixed his blue tie while dusting off his jeans._ _

__They followed Gabby down the rest of the hallway, and around a corner to see the glass walls of the recording booth. As they passed the glass, both Dean and Castiel paused to look inside the booth._ _

__Cecil’s back was turned towards them, and he was sitting in front of a radio microphone, headphones over his ears and he seemed excited about something as his arms were making wildly animated gestures, but the soundproofing prevented them from knowing what he was going on about. The only things Dean could tell from the view was the fact that Cecil was a guy, not thin or fat, and had an affinity for purple. A light pastel purple shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows like Castiel usually wore. Purple suspenders and black slacks and black shoes completed the outfit from what Dean could see. His arms had indistinguishable purple tattoos. Dean’s eyes widened in surprise with he also noticed the guy had white hair. Not blonde, not grey. Actually white. That’s a new one, he thought._ _

__Castiel tilted his head slightly. “I think the eye tattoo on his left arm just blinked,” he said, his even, gravelly voice sounding only vaguely concerned, as though blinking tattoos were only a mild curiosity, not a bat-shit crazy phenomenon._ _

__For once, Dean didn’t even question it. “Blinking tattoos I can handle,” he muttered._ _

__Gabby motioned for them to follow her into a door next to the glass wall, and they found themselves in a tiny office, with a computer, a microphone, and a door into the booth. Cecil had paused, and was taking a drink of water as a sound bite from a guy with a southern accent played around them. At this new angle, Dean saw Cecil had glasses and a purple tie. _Guy loves his purple, Dean thought with a snicker. If he keeps up with that color scheme, people might think he was—__ _

__“So, Hiram, you agree with my boyfriend, Carlos, about these recent events?” the voice of Cecil on the recording said, and Dean just sighed. _Of course.__ _

__Gabby typed away on the computer and then sent the message to Cecil’s laptop next to him. He paused for only a moment, glanced at them in the office, then settled back in front of the microphone, a smile on his lips._ _

__“Listeners, breaking news. Earlier in the broadcast I spoke of the missing townsfolk that disappeared without a trace. It seems that these disappearances have prompted a special investigation by the Death Weapon Meister Academy! Here, in the room next to me, are two male students, named Dean and Castiel. They’ve come to try and solve this mystery for us! If anyone has any information that can move their investigation further, please call the station. And now, while I chat with our new little detectives, I present to you, the Weather.”_ _

__A music number started to play, and Cecil stood from his desk and started walking into the office they were in._ _

__Dean shot a look of absolute shock at Gabby. “ _Lady!_ You don’t just let your boss announce our entire presence to the town! How are we supposed to figure to find the culprit now, they’ll be halfway to Vegas by now!” _ _

__Gabby shrugged. “I’m supposed to share any news bulletins with Cecil. You guys are news,” she stated unapologetically._ _

__Dean still had more words to say, but Cecil was now in the room with them. “Thanks for the update, Gabs!” he said, his voice smooth and hypnotic as it washed over them. Dean suddenly didn’t feel so mad anymore. “So, you two are the students?”_ _

__“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, clearly his throat as he shook Cecil’s hand. “I’m Dean, and this is—“_ _

__He looked to see Castiel was staring, unblinking, at Cecil. “This is, um, my partner, Castiel. He’s a fan of yours.”_ _

__Cecil grinned, and shook Castiel’s hand warmly. “A _fan?_ Outside of Night Vale? Wow! Wonders never cease. Can’t wait to tell Carlos that I have an actual fan.” _ _

__He looked down at his wristwatch, and Dean could have sworn of the swirling tattoos on his arm was shimmering and moving, like a mirage. “I don’t have much time, but what can I do for you?”_ _

__“Well, a map of the town, and the locations were the victims were last seen would definitely get us off on the right foot,” Dean said. Cecil nodded, and Gabby left to get them a map._ _

__“Sorry, but do you have a restroom?” Dean asked._ _

__Cecil waved him through the door on the other side of the office._ _

__Castiel wondered if Dean was going try and find some clues for the case. He looked at Cecil, and Cecil looked at him expectantly. Cas was very nervous. He had planned on letting Dean move the investigation forward, he was used to doing such as a hunter. Cas had not expected to be left alone with someone he admired._ _

__“So, when did you start listening to the show?” Cecil asked, trying to make Castiel less nervous. As soon as his melted-butter voice washed over him, Cas felt a little less anxious._ _

__“When I started classes at the DWMA. I have insomnia sometimes. Your voice is soothing,” he said, and then stilled when he realized how creepy that came of as._ _

__However, Cecil seemed to take the compliment at face value, and even laughed. “Soothing? Daw! I’ll make sure to let Carlos know that, too! Too bad he wasn’t here, you probably would have liked to meet him, huh?” Castiel nodded a little sheepishly._ _

__Suddenly, there was a sharp shriek, and Dean came out the bathroom with a look of shock on his face as he shut the door quickly behind him. He pointed his thumb at the door. “There’s…uh…there’s a cat in there. Floating.” He blinked. “Why is there a cat floating next to the sink in your bathroom?”_ _

__“Oh, you’ve met Khoskeh! Isn’t he adorable?” Cecil said, his voice going up an octave in giddiness._ _

__“Adorable? Um…I’m not sure that’s exactly the word I would use to describe…him,” Dean said, and shuddered. “Too many eyes,” he said._ _

__Castiel gave Dean a determined look, and motioned for him to step aside so he could go in the bathroom._ _

__“It’s your funeral,” Dean said, but let him past. At that time Gabby finally returned, a map of the town folded up in her hands. She spread the map over a table and Cecil pent over it immediately, taking a marker as drawing little Xs where the people disappeared._ _

__“Do you know what else the victims might have had in common?” Dean asked as he watched._ _

__“Sorry. I just report the facts. You might want to talk to Old Woman Josie. She’s keeps up with the gossip in Night Vale.”_ _

__“There might be a monster eating people in your town, and that’s considered ‘gossip’?” Dean asked incredulously._ _

__Suddenly, there was an unearthly roar, and Castiel burst through the door, slamming it shut behind him. When he turned around, though his blue eyes were wide in terror, he was grinning wildly in excitement. “Totally worth it,” he dead-paned._ _

__“Please, stop tormenting my cat,” Cecil said. He pushed the map towards them. “Here you go! The Weather’s almost done, so good luck!” he said, and rushed back into the recording booth._ _


	13. WTNV 2-Kishin-Egg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How exactly does a hunter/meister fair against a kishin-egg?

After crawling past S.M.’s door, and surviving the daggers Intern Michael had glared at them as they left, Dean and Cas were sitting in the Chevelle, looking at the map with a flashlight. Dean looked at his phone to see it was almost midnight, and stifled a yawn. “Alright,” Dean said. “What are we looking at?”

“A map of the victim’s last known appearances,” Castiel said. 

“Dude, it’s been a long day. Let’s keep the painfully obvious observations to a minimum, please,” Dean grumbled, rubbing his face trying to wake back up. 

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. Instead, he looked at Dean and how often he was attempting to stifle his yawning. 

“Perhaps we should return home and pick this up tomorrow after school?” Castiel asked. He was feeling pretty exhausted himself, and he was not even the one who had to actually spar both Sid and Sam in the same day. 

Surprisingly, Dean shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. People are disappearing left and right in this town—there’s a good possibility someone’s gonna disappear tonight too, and if we’re back at the DWMA we might not be able to save them.” 

“But, what about our classes?”

Dean arched an eyebrow at Cas in a _‘Really?’_ gesture. “Dude, we’re on a mission straight from Death _himself_. I’m pretty sure this would count as an ‘excused absence’ tomorrow.” 

Castiel thought about it and then nodded. “Okay. But we should check in anyways.” 

Dean smacked his forehead. “Oh, yeah, totally. Cas, do you remember that number?” 

“We don’t have a mirror.” 

Dean looked around his car and patted all his pockets, but no luck. Then he caught sight of the rear-view mirror. “Guess this’ll work,” he said. He leaned forward and breathed on the glass; the cooling air of the desert night and Dean’s warm breath fogged the tiny mirror instantly. 

“What was it--? Oh, 42-42-5-6-4, when you want to knock on Death’s door,” the hunter said, drawing the numbers on the misted glass. He adjusted the mirror, then he and Castiel squished together as much as possible without it becoming awkward so they could look in the mirror together. 

Instead of their reflections, Death was staring at them. “Dean, Castiel! How goes it? You’re not done already, are you?” the Grim Reaper asked cheerfully.

“No, but we did go talk to Cecil. We’re gonna stick around tonight and pick up the trail in the morning,” Dean explained, stifling another yawn. 

“An excellent plan. And how was Cecil?” Death asked. 

“Very nice,” Cas said. “And Khoshek was…cute, in his own way.” 

“Oh, you two are so lucky,” Death said with a chuckle. Dean got the feeling the Grim Reaper didn’t leave his office very often. 

“Oh, Lord Death, you said there was an informant here. Could you tell us who that is so we can talk to them?” Dean asked. 

“Sorry Dean. You’re on your own. This is a test, remember?” the reaper said cheerfully, then waved at them. “Tootles!” 

“Hey, wait! Dammit,” Dean mumbled. They returned to their seats, and Castiel looked at Dean. 

“So, Dean, should we go find a motel for the night?”

Dean laughed bitterly. “Yeah, with what money? I’m broke, what about you?”

Castiel shook his head. “I have some of the weekly stipend, but I suppose it’s not enough.” He looked at Dean suspiciously. “What about your stipend? We are given $200 a week to live on; what happened to yours?” 

The hunter blatantly ignored him. Instead, he started searching the car’s back seat, and pulled out a threadbare blanket, which he tossed at Castiel. Dean said, “I’ll put my seat back, and you can have the backseat. It’s actually pretty comfortable.”

“No, it’s your car, you should take the back.” 

“Cas, I insist on it. Don’t think I won’t make you sleep on the roof.” 

Castiel’s lips drew into a line. He knew Dean was not going to change his mind, but he did not want to back down either. “Dean, you’re exhausted. Look, I’m not that tired, okay? I’ll look at the map a bit more and see if I can figure out a pattern to the disappearances. You get some sleep. Remember, when we find this kishin-egg, you’re the one who’s going to have to fight and kill it.”

Green eyes met blue and an intense staring match began, neither wanting to concede to the other. After a moment, though, exhaustion won, and Dean broke off his gaze. “Fine, fine,” he mumbled, and crawled his way into the back seat. He straightened him out as much as he could and, using his leather jacket like a blanket, passed out almost instantly. 

Despite his exhaustion, Castiel did look at the map for a while longer, using the flashlight to try and figure out if there was a rhyme or reason to the disappearances. The long day caught up with him before he could find out any of those answers. Castiel’s eyelids would not stop drooping, and eventually he gave up. He leaned his seat back, and rested his head against the door, looking up into the clear night sky. The twinkling stars were the last things he saw before a peaceful darkness overcame him. 

~*~

It was the middle of the night when Castiel awoke with a start. Immediately he whipped around to see Dean on his back, mouth open and snoring gently. Looking around, Castiel knew _something_ had woken him up, but the empty streets only prompted more confusion. 

His eyes focused on the on the corner of the radio station, and the streetlight there. Specifically, he focused on a shadow that was moving under it. A shadow, not attached to anything, that suddenly seemed to have sharp claws about two feet long instead of fingers, and it disappeared off around a corner of the next street. 

“Dean,” Cas said. He leaned back and smacked Dean hard. “Dean! Wake up!” 

Dean jerked up, and thumped his head on the roof of the car. “Ow, shit! Cas what the hell—“

“Kishin, Dean!” Castiel snapped, and he was out the car and running down the street where the shadow had rushed off too. He heard Dean quickly catch up to him, swearing in pain the whole time. 

They came around the corner and skidded to a halt. Under a streetlight in front of them there was a figure lying on the sidewalk, and the shadowy creature standing over it with its claws raised. 

“Hey, Dickhead!” Dean yelled, and the shadow whipped around towards them. It had a deformed humanoid shape, limps appearing and disappearing, except its eyes, which were bright orange and several times too large. 

Castiel immediately changed and materialized in Dean’s waiting hand. The hunter ran towards the monster as quick as possible. “Come here, ugly!” Dean snarled. 

The shadow monster grinned at them, revealing a mouth full of dagger-teeth. It raised its claws to bring down on Dean’s head, but Dean dodged the claws and slashed upwards, the tip of the blade catching the kishin across the torso. The shadow monster howled, a noise that shook Dean to his very bones. 

The kishin tried to backhand Dean away, but he managed to roll to the left, getting away from those long machete-like claws. At least, he thought he did. 

_SHIK!_ “Ow, fuck!” Dean swore, clutching his leg. He thought he’d managed to get out of the monster’s reach, but a finger had sliced him across the top of his left thigh. His jeans started to immediately turn black with blood. He was down on one knee, putting pressure on the leg with one hand with holding Castiel tightly in the other. 

_Dean!_ Castiel exclaimed, unsure what to do. 

Dean looked up to see the monster has grabbed its intended victim and slung the limp body over its shoulder. _If we let it disappear, that person’s good as dead!_ Dean realized. 

The familiar jolt ran up his arm and filled him in with a jittery numbness. The pain in his wounded leg deadened for a moment, Dean got back to his feet slowly. He swayed as he stood, leg feeling weak under him. He flipped the blade around in his hand and yelled “Hey Asshat! You forgot something!” 

The shadow monster turned around slightly, eyes narrowed in annoyance, which turned to complete surprise as the Angel Blade stabbed it right between the eyes. 

No longer connected to the living current Castiel had been generating, Dean dropped to the ground, only barely conscious. He looked to see the shadow monster, the surprised expression still etched onto its face as it seemed to….unravel? Like the whole thing was wrapped in shadow ribbons which then blew apart in a mini-explosion. 

Castiel changed back into his human form just in time to catch the monsters’ intended victim, Gabby. The girl was still unconscious, but luckily she was uninjured and light in stature. 

Cas laid the girl on the ground after making sure she was okay, then turned to see a floating orb of red light before his eyes. It hovered right where the monster had died. His breathe hitched slightly at the sight of the kishin egg. A myriad of emotions crossed his mind—fear to actually eat the evil thing, pride at having gotten his first kishin egg, nervousness that he was about to start down a path he wasn’t sure he wanted to travel. 

Despite his reservations, his hand moved on its own accord, and he grabbed the thing, surprised that it was both light and dense. He closed his eyes, and before he could think about it further, he took the soul and swallowed it whole. It had the same texture and felt like a huge tapioca ball, light and firm but filled with juice. It slid easily down his throat, and into his stomach. He waited a few seconds, but he didn’t feel any different from before. 

Castiel opened his eyes, and see Dean slumped on the ground a few feet away, not moving. “Dean!” he shouted and raced over to his partner. Dean was still breathing, and the bottom half of his t-shirt was missing. He had ripped it up to make a tourniquet for his leg. That quick thinking seemed to have stemmed the blood loss. For now.

“Castiel, I officially hate kishin-eggs,” Dean muttered. “Is the girl okay?”

“Gabby’s fine, but still unconscious.” Cas paused for a second before laying his hand on Dean’s shoulder, getting Dean to loll his head over to look at him. “We need to get you to a hospital.” 

“Not in this crazy town, they might try to take my kidney. I like my kidney, thank you…” Dean said deliriously, almost passing out again. 

Still holding his shoulder, Castiel closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration. The energy transfer must have worked, because Dean was suddenly wide awake, and swearing colorfully at the pain in his leg. 

Dean’s arm was over Castiel’s shoulder, and he was unable to keep from leaning on the smaller guy as to not put the pressure on his leg until he was standing. “Thanks, Cas,” he said. Once he was up he could move on his own power. They hobbled over to Gabby, still unconscious. 

“Think you can zap her awake?” Dean suggested. 

Castiel looked unsure. “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt her by accident.” 

“Well, we can’t sit here, so, what do we do?” Dean muttered, then groaned at his leg. 

Castiel looked at Dean, then at Gabby, and suddenly had an idea. “Dean, can you drive?” he asked. 

“Um, yeah. Thank god the Chevelle isn’t a manual,” Dean said. He moved forward to help with Gabby, but Castiel scooped her up in his arms easily. They made their way slowly back to the car, and slid her into the backseat while Dean and Cas got in front. More colorful swearing on Dean’s part, but he didn’t seem in danger of dying from blood loss. 

“Where are we going to go, Cas?” 

“I don’t know yet,” he said, before turning around completely in his seat in order to face Gabby in the back. He placed his index and middle fingers together on her arm, and concentrated. 

“OW!” Gabby yelped, thrashing forward and almost smacking Cas in the face. Luckily he had fast reflexes, and pulled away without injury from her flying fists. She instantly burst into tears, crying and screaming, her thrashing making the car wobbly erratically. 

“Calm down, Gabby!” Dean said. “It’s us!” 

“It’s us, you’re okay, Gabby,” Cas said. “It’s Castiel and Dean.” 

“Castiel? And Dean? But how…where am I? What happened?” Gabby asked, tears streaking her face and making her voice wrecked. 

“What’s the last thing you remember, Gabby?” Dean asked, looking at her through the rear-view mirror. He didn’t turn in the seat for fear of the pain. 

Her big brown eyes looked back at him, still looking exceptionally freaked out. “Um, I was still at the station working. I, uh, usually stay late, I’m a workaholic—and I remember running into Michael. He looked—weird. His eyes—oh, I know this will sound crazy but—his eyes looked orange. Then, waking up here.”

She caught the look the boys shared between them, and her hands flew to her mouth in shock. “Oh my god! Did he—did I almost _disappear_?” she whispered in fright. 

“Yeah, but we stopped him. You’re safe now, Gabby,” Castiel said. 

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but instead grimaced in pain. Gabby leaned forward and saw his leg. “Dean! Oh god, we need to get you to the hospital!” 

“I’d love to go if we were anywhere but this town,” he said before moaning. 

Gabby looked to Castiel for explanation. “He’s convinced the doctor’s might take his kidney,” Cas explained in his gravelly, stoic way. Instead of giving him a concerned look, Gabby nodded her head in understanding. 

“Oh! I know! But, would you like me to drive, Dean?” she asked. 

Dean thought for a moment. "Much as I'd like that, I think moving into the back would hurt more than letting me just drive. Where are we going?”

“Carlos’ lab. I know where it is. Carlos usually stays up all night doing work in his lab, he might be able to help. Or, if anything, he might be able to point you to patch you up enough for you to get back to your school,” she explained. 

Dean nodded somberly as he turned the car on. “Please don’t be far,” he prayed.


	14. WTNV 3-Carlos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Carlos' Lab, where the strangeness of Night Vale only gets stranger!

The door of the laboratory opened; before them was a Hispanic man with a touch of stubble on his chin and a touch of gray at his temples. His wore his glasses low on his nose so he could see over them, and his jeans and red flannel shirt was covered with a worn lab coat. His eyes opened wide in surprise to see Gabby and two strange teenage boys, one leaning on the other, a bloody tourniquet tied around his thigh. 

“Carlos! We need your help,” Gabby said. She voice had a pleading tone, like she was vaguely worried he would turn them away. 

“Gabby? What happened? Who are you?” he asked the boys, at the same time moving aside to let them into his lab. Once inside he led the boys towards an empty examination table. 

“I’m Castiel, this is Dean,” Cas said simply. 

“Didn’t mean to barge in like this,” Dean said, another hiss of pain escaping him. Carlos waved away his apology. 

At a nearby table sat Cecil, clad in pajama bottoms and an over-sized sweater, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He arched an eyebrow at Gabby, then looked as Carlos and Castiel helped Dean to sit onto the table. “Gabby? You’re up a lit late, aren’t you? Did you have a hankering for scientific inquiry and understanding our frail existence in this universe?”

Gabby looked at him dubiously. “Scientific--? No! I was leaving the studio and Michael tried to _eat_ me!” 

“Ah,” Cecil said, sounding way too calm about this bit of news. He looked back over at Dean and Castiel. “So, I’m going to assume you’ve successfully harvested the kishin-egg, then?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean said as Carlos started looking at the bandage. He wandered over to a series of cabinets and started to get bandages, clean rags, and other tools. “Intern Michael was a dick.” 

“I suppose that’s one way to put it. Guess I’ll have to do another intern obituary on the air tomorrow. Always a sad day to lose an intern in the line of duty.” 

It took Dean a few seconds to realize what Cecil said, and he whipped his head up to look the radio host right in the eyes, which were actually…purple? _Of freakin’ course. What other color would they be?_

“How do you know what a kishin-egg is?” Castiel asked suspiciously, taking the question right out of Dean’s mouth. 

Cecil actually laughed. “Well, it would be pretty bad if I graduated from the DWMA and _didn’t_ know what a kishin-egg was!” 

“You’re a—you’re a meister?” Dean demanded. His teeth clenched not just in pain but in unabashed anger. “People are dying in this town, and you just sit on your ass and do nothing to stop it?”

“I’m a pacifist,” Cecil said, with a good-natured shrug. “I report the news, but I don’t make it, one way or the other.” 

“Who’s your weapon?” Cas asked. Even though he sounded calm and collected as usual, Dean could tell there was anger boiling just under his cool exterior. 

Cecil wiggled his eyebrows at Carlos, who bent his head down so he did not have to look at the teenagers in the eyes, as though he could not take their anger at him. 

Carlos came back to stand in front of Dean. The boy actually scooted away from the scientist, not wanting any help from him. “You two are cowards!” 

“It’s not like that,” Cecil said, anger coloring his voice. He looked at Gabby (who was standing slack-jawed) then at the boys sternly. “You shouldn’t be so overly-dramatic,” he said, looking at his watch. “Those people should be waking up any minute, no memories of the past week, and no one else in town aside from us will remember that they were missing.” 

“Wha—what?” Dean asked. He looked at Castiel. “Castiel, can you tell me what he just said? Because I’m pretty sure the blood loss is catching up to me.” 

“No Dean. I have all my blood, and I am just as confused as you,” the weapon said dutifully. 

Cecil patted the seat next to him for Gabby to sit down in; considering how green she was suddenly looking, there was a good possibility she was going to pass out again. She took her seat, still looking stuck in a fog. “I—I don’t even…” she simply trailed off. Cecil pushed his coffee in front of her, and she started sipping it slowly, a faraway look in her eyes.

“Look, I can’t explain how it happens. An alternate timeline crossing over with a time warp? I have no idea,” Carlos said. “It seems that whatever causes the strange events to occur here in Night Vale attracts kishin-eggs as well. However, unlike in other places, those who are killed or taken by a kishin seem to—well, I guess the best way to describe it is—they ‘respawn’ after the kishin is harvested. They are just—back—no memories, just normal again.” 

“That’s impossible,” Dean said. 

“There’s no such thing in Night Vale. I’ve had to come to accept that,” Carlos said. “Now, I’m not a medical doctor, but I remember enough from my days at the Academy to patch you up. Will you please let me?”

Dean was still furious, but he knew he couldn’t turn down the help. He nodded, and Carlos started to untie the tourniquet. As he pulled away the blood-drenched fabric, Dean gripped Castiel’s shoulder in pain. Despite his smaller frame, Cas was able to stand still and let Dean squeeze his shoulder until it was black and blue. “Sorry, Cas,” Dean said, but he was unable to stop his hand from squeezing again. 

Carlos was able to get all the fabric away, and he used a pair of shears to cut away a few inches of denim to reveal the kishin’s damage. The gash was about six inches long, and almost half and each deep. “You’re lucky this wasn’t deeper. If that kishin-egg had hit one of the arteries in your leg, you’d be dead a few times over by now,” the scientist said. 

“Thanks, doc, but I’m not feeling any better,” Dean tried to joke. “I’m going to clean this up, and sew up your leg,” Carlos warned. 

“This isn’t my first time being sewn up,” Dean admitted. The pain, blood loss, and anger at Cecil had exhausted the hunter/meister to the point that he was almost able to drift off even as Carlos punctured his leg with a needle multiple times. The strange sensation of his skin being pulled back together was nothing more than a minor irritation. 

“As much as I hate to admit this, it is the perfect set-up,” Castiel said. Dean looked at him, blinking slowly against the tide of tired. “What are you--?”

“This town. It’s the perfect place to simulate a real-world kishin-egg encounter. Every time a kishin comes to town, you let Death know so he can send out amateur meisters to deal with it. You have actual victims and an actual kishin-egg, but there is also a DWMA meister/weapon pair living in the town that can help in case anything goes awry. And once the kishin is destroyed, the townspeople come back and are none the wiser.” Castiel shook his head. “It’s devious, but extremely clever.” 

“And you remember every time a person was killed by a kishin-egg here? And brought back?” Gabby asked quietly.

Cecil nodded. “I’d say…about a few hundred times in the past few years, right Carlos?”

Carlos nodded. “I think so. And every one was revived successfully. By the way, you have to be the only meister to come knocking at my door with a single gash. Most meisters are slightly worse for wear than you,” he said. 

“Thanks…for the compliment….” Dean said, head lolling to the side, fighting to stay awake. 

Castiel handed Dean a glass of water Carlos had brought over earlier, and Dean downed the whole thing in one gulp. 

“And, you’re done,” Carlos said, putting down his needle to inspect the lines of precise stitches across the thigh. “The leg should heal up fine, Dean. Now, I’ve got an extra cot in the back room. I think it’s time you to get some much needed rest.” 

Dean barely had the energy to nod, and between Castiel and Carlos they helped him to said room with the said cot. Dean was snoring before he hit the cot. When Carlos came back with some blankets and a pillow, Castiel was already asleep, sitting on the floor, his back against the cot. The scientist gently placed the blanket on Dean, and the pillow in Castiel’s lap before draping the other blanket on him. He smiled at them, then pulled the door closed quietly, leaving them to sleep off the night’s adventures. 

Despite how many time he’s seen students come and go, he had to admire them and the bravery they showed when facing a live kishin-egg for the first time. Many students had cried over the years, in terror or in pain. Some almost died during their initial hunt. He could not remember any who came to his lab with only a single gash to be sewn up. He also had not met anyone who had called him a coward to his face, though. Though he hated to admit it, Carlos wondered if the boy had a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you're enjoying the story! Wow, over 300 hits! That's totally cool, you are awesome! Please leave kudos or comments. Love it, hate, questions, shout-outs? Thanks again!


	15. WTNV 4-Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the adrenaline is gone, they didn't do half bad, did they?

Dean awoke in a foggy haze late the next afternoon, over 15 hours later. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at his leg. The denim was stiffened with the dried blood, and his leg was still tender, even a bit itchy from the stitches. His back and sides were sore, and his throat felt like the surrounding desert, arid and sandy. 

It was then he noticed Cas was curled up on the floor next to the cot, still sleeping. During the night Cas had squished his blanket into a ball and was using it as a pillow, the actual one ignored.

Dean swung his legs over the side of the cot, and decided to test him leg. He had to clench his teeth and curl his fingers into fists to not make a noise from the pain his leg radiated as he stood up. He was unstable, almost toppled over from momentary vertigo, but was able to shake it off. It was slow going, but he was able to hobble out of the room and into the lab without waking up his sleeping partner. 

He managed to make his way over to the table and sit down in one of the chairs. Dean stifled a loud yawn and shook his head a little, thinking that would help clear up the fogginess. 

“You’re awake,” Carlos said, entering the lab with a cup of coffee and a glass of water in his hands. 

“Can’t tell if you sound surprised or relieved,” Dean said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Well, a bit of both to be honest. I thought you’d sleep longer, but since it looks like you came out here on your own power, your leg must be doing better.” He handed the glass to Dean, who gulped it down greedily. At the same time Carlos squatted down and gently pulled back the ruined fabric to see the stitches seemed to be holding up, and the swelling around the leg was going down. 

Carlos was kind enough to refill the glass for Dean several times before the meister felt the last bit of dryness leave his throat, and his mind felt haze-free. 

Dean did not like the scientists continuously hovering around him. “Thanks for the help last night, but I’m fine,” he said, hoping that Carlos would take the hint and back out of his personal space. _What is it with people and not understanding how personal spaces work? Maybe it’s a weapon thing._

“Yes, I’m starting to see that. I’m curious, though. Last night you mentioned that you have been “sewn up before’? When was that? Usually Death reserves kishin-egg hunting in Night Vale for first-timers.” 

“I grew up as a Hunter,” Dean simply said. “This was my first kishin-egg hunt, but not my first rodeo.” 

Carlos nodded, but he got a sad look on his face when he looked at Dean’s leg. “I really hope for a day when kishins are no longer a threat that must be combated.” 

Dean scoffed. “That’s a little naïve, doc,” he said. “As long as there are people alive, there will be kishins. Just like there will be monsters. There will always be things that are hunting us, and stalking us. It’s just the way of the world.” 

Carlos raised his eyebrows at the young man. “That’s a pretty cynical thing to say for someone so young.” 

“I haven’t had the opportunity to hide in a stupid town where no one dies,” Dean grumbled. 

“People die in Night Vale all the time. Disappearances, gruesome deaths, the works. Only those killed by kishin-eggs re-spawn for whatever unknown reason that I have yet to fathom.” Carlos didn’t seem to take anything Dean said offensively, but objectively. Lucky for Dean, otherwise he might have found himself chucked out of the lab with incredible force, were Carlos a more emotional man. 

There was a coughing, and both looked over to see Castiel emerge from the back room. His hair looked like it had lost an encounter with a tornado. There were dark circles under his eyes (of which Dean had a matching set), and his clothes were horribly wrinkled. In fact, his buttoned shirt was pulled open, and Dean gasped when he saw the clear black and blue handprint on his left shoulder. “Holy crap, Cas! Did I do that?”

Castiel looked at the bruise, and nodded. “You have…how should I put this?...one hell of a grip,” he said, his gravelly voice sounding lighter, like they were sharing a joke. 

“Does that hurt, Castiel?” Carlos asked, standing up to let Castiel sit next to Dean. He looked at the bruise, and when he barely touched it Cas flinched. “Do you have any more obtuse questions you would like to ask me?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wow Cas, cranky much?”

“It’s been a long 48 hours,” Castiel said warily. 

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Dean said. He looked at Carlos and held his head low. “Sorry, not exactly being very grateful, are we?”

“Sarcasm is a good sign,” Carlos said with a chuckle. “Believe me; I've heard worse over the years. You two will be back on your feet imminently.” 

“Yes, we need to return to the Academy as soon as possible,” Cas said slowly. Normally he’d have this horrified look on his face because they hadn’t gone to class, or checked in with Death. At the moment, though, he looked sullen, sleepy, and couldn’t give a rat’s ass about such trivial things. 

It was at that moment that Cecil reappeared, walking into the lab with a brown bag of groceries. He gave Carlos a peck on the cheek, then turned his purple-hued stare onto the boys. “Well, aren’t you two the picture of health and happiness,” he quipped. 

Both Dean and Castiel glared at him simultaneously, and Cecil simply chuckled at them. 

“Thought I’d come back to see how you were doing before heading into the studio for the next segment of Welcome to Night Vale,” Cecil said. “You guys will be remembered as heroes!” 

“How? The missing people aren’t missing anymore, and the rest of the town won’t remember them either,” Dean stated. 

Cecil tapped his chin a few times, mulling over that. “Well, Carlos, Gabby, and I will always remember your courageous efforts,” he said with a smile. 

Dean sat up a little straighter. “Oh, yeah, where is Gabby?” 

“I took her home last night, after you two crash-landed into the land of Nod. Oh!” he said, and suddenly started patting himself down, looking for something. Finally in his back pocket he pulled out a folded piece of paper. “She wanted me to give you this.” 

Castiel eyed the paper curiously. He was even more intrigued when Dean opened the paper and his cheeks flushed red, his eyebrows arched high. “She gave me her _number_?”

“Congratulations, you got a girl’s phone number for being yourself,” Cas said, the sarcasm even more hilarious considering he said it in his completely somber voice. 

Dean couldn’t help the laughter after that. He laughed long and loud, doubling over in the chair as he fought to breathe. He was relieved the hunt went well; Cas got his first soul, and Dean got a girl’s number pretty much by accident. He laughed until he shifted his weight, and a moan of pain replaced the laughter. “Ow,” he moaned, hand on his leg. 

Carlos, who had gone over to another table and was tinkering with a series of tubes and burners and various beakers of different liquids, looked at them. “Now, I know that last night was a little hectic, but try to remember you medical spells next time, Castiel. Those would have saved Dean a lot of pain and grief.” 

Castiel whipped around and gave Carlos a hard stare, making the scientist shuffle uncomfortably. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just saying, remember next time, okay?”

Dean looked at Castiel with surprise and a touch of hurt on his face. “You could’ve healed me?” he asked.

Castiel shook his head. “What are you talking about?” he demanded of Carlos. He sounded almost angry. “I would never let Dean suffer unnecessary pain!” 

Carlos looked over his glasses that them. “You don’t know healing magic?” 

Castiel shook his head. 

Carlos narrowed his eyes at that. “Exactly how long have you two been at the DWMA?” he asked quietly. 

Dean and Cas looked at each other. “Two weeks?” Dean asked. 

“Two and half,” Cas corrected. 

“Almost three weeks,” Dean said casually. 

If Carlos had been holding anything, it would have slipped from his hands and smashed to the floor. Luckily, he was not. Although the look of absolute shock on the scientists face seemed to suggest his jaw was not far from smashing apart on the floor. 

“Three WEEKS?!” Carlos was still in shock, and unable to speak, so Cecil spoke in outrage for him. “Normally you don’t leave the Academy until three _months_!” 

“Like I said, Hunter, and Cas is a warrior monk,” Dean explained, motioning to themselves. 

Castiel rubbed his temple. “For the last time, I’m not a monk,” he said in exasperation. 

“Even if you have fighting experience, Death sent you into the field with no knowledge of basic healing magics? There’s no reason for that sort of recklessness!” Carlos said. 

“Well, obviously he figured we could handle ourselves. Which, we did,” Dean said. “Yeah, I’ve got a new scare to add to the collection, but we’re alive. Gabby’s alive. Everything’s fine.”

“Why are you not angry about this?” Castiel demanded of his partner. 

“What’s the point? We’re alive, we’re not crippled, and people are alive. That’s a win in my book no matter if you’re a Hunter or a Meister.” 

This apparently was not appeasing Castiel one bit. The guilt he felt churned his stomach, and the idea that Dean had suffered unnecessary pain made him see red with anger. If Death had let them continue their lessons for a little while longer…Castiel’s hand clenched into a fist. He very rarely felt anger, but he could feel it now: fast and sharp and so hot it burned. 

Dean’s hand ruffled his hair, almost immediately snapping him from his anger. “Cas, don’t beat yourself up over this. Honestly, I’ve had worse,” he said, smiling. 

Castiel felt the anger slip away from him as he looked at Dean smiling so genuinely. “I’m still going to give Death a piece of my mind,” the weapon grumbled. 

“Sick him, Cas,” Dean joked. 

~*~

Dean leaned against the car, and winced as his leg throbbed. He almost regretted not letting Carlos teach Cas basic healing medicine and practicing on him. Almost. He liked Cas well enough, but he wasn’t sure he trusted him enough to not accidentally break something. So, Dean had another scar to add to the collection that, in many respects, he was too young to have. 

For what must have been the twelfth time, Dean pulled out the little slip of paper with Gabby’s number on it. He wasn’t really sure what to do about the paper, if he had an honest moment with himself. Dean had been trying to get Meg’s number for the past few weeks, and suddenly another girl just gives him her number out of the blue. 

“She probably just wants to thank you for saving her life,” Castiel said somberly, walking up to the car and leaning against the hood next to Dean. “We were unconscious at the time, remember?”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said, using a smirk to cover up his nervousness. 

“You could just _talk_ to her,” the weapon suggested. 

“About what? What a crazy-ass town she lives in? I don’t know. I just…I’m not exactly sure what to do with it. Not sure if I ‘like’ her like that,” Dean said. 

Cas glanced at Dean. “You do know you can talk to someone without being interested in them, right?” the weapon felt the need to point out. 

“Thank you, Professor Obvious,” Dean mumbled. He shoved the paper back into his pocket, deciding that he was going to deal with it later.

They looked up at the sky, which was the same ebony color as last night’s sky, clear without a cloud to dim the starlight. Carlos and Cecil had been kind enough to change Dean’s bandages and buy them each a small pizza for dinner. Both boys inhaled their respective pies (they hadn’t eaten in almost 24 hours thanks to the kishin-egg fight), and profusely thanked the pair. 

“This place doesn’t seem so bad,” Dean said, and the last word had not even left his mouth when his eyes grew wide up at the sky. A dark figure flew by, off in the distance. It had to have been a low-flying plane, but Dean could have sworn it had large wings and multiple heads….

Castiel waved at the apparition. “Hello, Mr. McDaniel’s!” he said. The shape disappeared, and Dean turned to see Castiel grinning again. 

“Come on, let’s leave this looney bin,” Dean said. He huffed as another wave of pain radiated up from the gash, but it was significantly lessened now that he had taken several pain-killers. Cas had also taken a few from Carlos for his shoulder, but Dean pretended not to notice. 

The drive back to the Academy was quiet, traveling again on the road with no other traffic. The town of Night Vale shrank in their back window, until it was nothing more than a really bizarre memory, and a scar to go with it.


	16. Friendly Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories, arguments, and bonding moments

_He was spending the weekend hunting with Uncle Rufus, and it was the first time he was the leading the hunt. He was given the reigns, taking in the clues, the reports, and putting it all together. Rufus guided his deductions, and helped get witness testimony for the teenager, but the hunt was mostly in Dean’s capable hands._

_It was a werewolf. His first, and actually the first for Rufus in almost 20 years._

_Everything up to the actual ganking of the monster was smooth._

_When he stabbed the silver knife through the werewolf’s heart, and jerked it back out, that he realized something was different. Along with the blood that poured from the wound, there was…light? Red light, like the flicker of a flame. Dean never heard of anything like that before, but he noticed Rufus did not react to the light._

_So, it was not a werewolf thing. It was a Dean thing._

_After a few more monsters (a ghost, a rugaru, a demonic possession) he saw that same red flicker of light. No matter if they were on fire or disintegrated or were a cloud of black smoke sent back to Hell—there was always that flickering orb. Usually it looked like the monster, almost like a shadow of light, but no one ever saw it. Never Bobby, or Ellen, or Rufus. When he told his parents, they shared a concerned glance when they thought he could not see it. Dean started to think he was going crazy, hallucinating the lights._

_After a few weeks of questioning everything he was seeing, of keeping secrets from his parents for the first time in his life, answers finally came. They came in the form of a red-headed man in a black suit who introduced himself as “Spirit Alban.” Somehow, he knew about Dean’s visions. It was truly a relief that someone knew what he was going through—that he was not going crazy._

_“You’re a meister, Dean. You have the ability to wield certain people who can turn into weapons. Those lights you’ve been seeing are the souls of the monsters you hunt. However, meisters hunt different monsters. We hunt Kishin-eggs. They are very dangerous creatures, and it is our job to destroy them. I’m here to offer you the chance to come to our Death Weapon Mesiter Academy, to learn how to defeat these monsters and help protect the world.”_

_Dean and Spirit sat in Bobby’s den, both his mother and father silently watching their son and the red-haired stranger. They were cautious of him, but since he was unaffected by the devil’s traps, the holy water, the salt, and the iron chair he was sitting in, the hunters had no real reason to dismiss his words. Dean was still suspicious, but also getting excited at the idea._

_“What’s the difference between us?” Dean asked the scythe. “Hunters and Meisters?”_

_“Well, most monsters that you face are after the physical form of the human. Werewolves want the heart, vampires want the blood, wraiths want the brain, etc. Kishin-eggs, however, devour human souls in order to become the monsters that they do. It takes special training and magics to defeat them. You’ve been seeing monster souls, which means you have the makings of a powerful meister, Dean. You’re special. Once you graduate from the DWMA, you will be able to protect more people. You’ll be faster, stronger, and smarter, and your partner will be your lifeline as you will be theirs. This is a rare opportunity for a hunter, Dean. You should take it.”_

~*~

Dean’s eyes blinked open, breaking free from the memory/dream. His eyes traveled around the tiny bedroom, and he found himself unable to remember actually crashing into the bed last night. _Must have been more exhausted than I thought._

Gentle breathing came from the bunk above him, and a few images from the previous night flickered in his mind. Like them standing in front of Death, after he had congratulated them on the job well done. He didn’t remember returning to their apartment though, and he did not remember if Castiel had actually given Death a piece of his mind like he had vowed he would. Considering the sounds of life from the bunk above, Dean assumed that he had not, although the notion was appreciated. Castiel’s a good friend. 

~*~

Word spread like wildfire of the students allowed to hunt within a few weeks of orientation, making Dean and Castiel like celebrities. They were allowed to give advice to other students who were about to embark on their own initial hunts. Sid even gave Dean a pass on their private practices for a few extra days so there was less chance of Dean pulling out Carlos’ stitches. His leg still hurt, but it was a good pain; the pain of a job well done and he being alive to tell the tale.

Dean and Castiel suddenly found themselves the center of attention for the next few weeks. Girl were suddenly flirting with both of them (much to Castiel’s horror—he never actually spoke to any of them, he got too nervous to utter any sound). Guys were suddenly Dean’s friends, and for a guy who had never really had many friends, it was a lot of fun. Although Dean did not mean for it to happen, Castiel was slightly forgotten in all the attention, and he ended up spending much of his time for the next few weeks with Sam, Ruby, and Meg. 

Meg was perfectly content to share their apartment couch with the quiet and contemplative weapon whenever Dean was off mingling with other students. Since Sam and Ruby were out practicing sparing in the gym more often than not, Meg appreciated the company. 

“Dean’s out and about again?” Meg asked Castiel, and he nodded, never taking his eyes from the book he was reading. “How come you don’t go with him? You’re his partner after all, and technically you did all the work on that first kill.” 

Cas shrugged. “I’m not one for crowds.” 

Meg teased the hell out of Dean, her sister, and Sam constantly, but she was always a little nicer to Castiel. Despite his nonchalance, she could see he was bothered by Dean’s actions.

“If it bugs you this much, talk to him,” she offered. 

Castiel’s blue eyes flickered over towards her for a split second. “….maybe,” he said non-committedly. 

Meg rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try,” she said, the harsh words a little softer once she actually said them. 

“Um…I never got a chance to say this before,” Castiel said, his eyes flickering at her for a second. “Your weapon form is…awesome, as Dean put it.” 

The lines around Meg’s dark brown eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Well, thanks for that, Casanova,” she chuckled, though it sounded a little hollow. “But being a shield isn’t that impressive.” 

Cas shook his head in disagreement. When Dean was still healing, Sid had let the two of them into the physical training classes as ‘consultants,’ and they got to see Sam using Ruby and Meg in their weapon forms. Ruby was a bone-handled bowie knife with a jagged edge (although she was half the length of a machete). Sam wielded her with his right hand, while Meg became a stone-like gauntlet encasing his left arm, flattening out until it was a respectable shield. 

Castiel partially wished that he could turn into a shield too. 

Meg seemed to see that line of reasoning, even without him saying anything. “Cas,” she stated. “If you can’t handle the idea of your partner getting hurt, then you should go back home. Right now.” 

Cas’s eyes grew wide when he realized she was being completely serious. No joking tone, no glint of laughter or teasing in her eyes. Meg was being absolutely serious. 

“That’s not exactly comforting, Meg,” he muttered, not looking her in the eyes. 

“Sorry, Clarence, but that’s the way life is. You need to accept the fact that you two will be hunting kishin-eggs, which are dangerous. People get hurt. People can die. Your partner got a gash on his leg, but he still kept fighting, Cas. Dean’s stronger than you seem to give him credit for. You’ve been on this guilt trip for too long, so either ride it all the way home or get off now.” 

Interrupting her tirade, Meg’s phone starting ringing, playing loudly the chorus from “Don’t Fear the Reaper.” She looked a bit startled, but jumped up and grabbed the phone as she walked out of the living room towards her and Ruby’s room. “Be right back, Cas,” she promised as the door to the room closed behind her, leaving Castiel to his thoughts. 

His eyes seemed stuck on a faraway place as his mind processed the truth she spoke. Castiel could not help himself but wonder why he felt guilty for Dean getting hurt. He was a weapon, it was his job to kill the monster, and it was Dean’s job to protect himself during the fight. Maybe it was the same reason that was feeding his jealousy at all the attention Dean was suddenly finding himself in the middle of. Castiel was afraid of being alone.

Cas had never been close with anyone in his family; in fact the only person he had really seen in the past few years was his brother Raphael. They were the ones who had been training in the abandoned sanctuary, and thus Cas had no friends. Dean was his first friend, and his partner to boot. The weapon was not really sure how friendships worked, but he could not help but be nervous that Dean might find another weapon—a girl weapon—and come back to say _“Sorry, Cas, but I finally got the partner I wanted!”_

It was obvious to Cas that this was going to happen. He could not protect Dean in their first fight, so obviously Dean would find someone else who could do the job better. The problem was, he did not want that to happen; but he was afraid he was being irrational. Was it really better for Dean to stay my partner? What if he got seriously hurt on our next hunt? Castiel knew he could not handle that pressure, that guilt. A whisper, from the darkest part of his mind, even had the gall to say _You should never have left your family…_

Meg’s return snapped Castiel from the dark thoughts, and she looked…contemplative. Her brow was wrinkled in concentration as she came back to sit next to him on the couch. 

“Who was that?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity. 

Meg looked at him for a moment, as though she was not sure whether she’d actually tell him. 

However, she chuckled. “That was my Dad,” she said, shaking her head. “Wanted to tell me that Mondo’s wife had their baby safely. Twins, by the sounds of things. However, the background was pretty loud—they must be having one hell of a party.” 

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Mondo?” he asked.

Meg sighed. “Dad’s right hand man. The typical biker who looks like he’d stab you for breathing, but is actually the biggest ball of tattooed fluff known to man.” 

“Ah, I see,” Cas said, though he was not really sure he completely did. “What exactly does your father do?”

Meg’s eyes shifted around the apartment, and Castiel’s eyes narrowed at her. “We’re the only ones here,” he said. 

“Sorry, force of habit. Um, well, me and Ruby’s dad is…well, let’s just say he’s the leader of one of the most notorious biker gangs in California.” 

Meg spoke quickly, a combination of nervousness and pride. 

“What’s the name of your gang?” Castiel asked. 

“The Yellow-Eyed Demons,” she said, with a little huff. “Not very terrifying sounding, I know. But hey! The Y.E.D. has been infamous for a while though, and if Dad gets his way soon there won’t be much in the way of competition for us.” 

Castiel looked Meg over slowly. Well, the sisters’ clothing style made sense, it seemed. His blue eyes locked onto her brown ones, and he stared at her intensely for several seconds. Meg was getting used to Castiel’s stares but she quickly looked away this time. “What?”

“You’re too nice to be from a notorious biker gang,” Castiel stated matter-of-factly. 

Meg actually glared at him. “Don’t assume you know everything about me, Castiel. Just because I’ve been nice to you here, at school, doesn’t erase the things I’ve done in the past. That Ruby’s done in the past.” 

“Have you killed anyone?” Castiel immediately asked. 

Meg arched her eyebrows at the blunt question. “No, we haven’t,” she said quietly. 

“You were doing what was expected of you from your family,” he said. “I can relate,” he added. 

Meg shook her head, then gave his a lop-sided grin. “You’re something else, Castiel. Most people would have run away or called the FBI if I told them that. You just gave me a pass.” 

Cas shrugged. “You seemed…apologetic,” he said. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Meg realized now why she was developing this little crush of hers on Castiel. He was completely different from what she grew up around. She was used to bar brawls, blood, weapons, colorful swears, and big burly guys on roaring motorcycles. Castiel was the exact opposite of that in every way; Dean reminded her a bit too much of her past, of home. The fact that she was actually getting along with Cas so well was a bit disconcerting, but he was…naively adorable? The fact that he just accepted her questionable past was a big relief, and Meg suddenly felt a lot more comfortable around the weapon. _Maybe Cas will still come around once Dean pulls his head out of his ass_ , she hoped. 

“Meg,” he said, breaking her reverie. 

“Hm?”

“Next time your father calls, tell him to tell Mondo congratulations.” 

Meg grinned, and patted his arms affectionately. “Sure thing, Clarence.” 

“How many times do I have to remind you that my name is Castiel?” he asked. If she had not caught the glint of humor in his bright blue eyes she might have gone off on another tangent of nicknames again. 

~*~  
Dean returned to their apartment later that evening, and found Cas on the couch, eyes staring off into space, brow furrowed in deep concentration. He did not even glance at Dean’s appearance, and the hunter immediately knew something was up.

“Hey, Cas, what’s up?” he asked. He sat in a chair across from the couch and started taking his boots off. Cas looked at him, obviously torn between saying something and keeping it to himself. That already was making Dean annoyed. 

“Spill it, Cas,” he said. He leaned back in the chair, watching his weapon partner. 

Cas seemed to take a breath and gather himself. “How long are you planning on continuing to see them?” he asked quietly.

“Them?” Dean asked, confusion on his face. 

“Your new so-called ‘friends’,” Cas replied, his words clipped and fast. 

Dean was taken aback, but immediately became defensive. “What’s got you so worked up? I’m hanging out with some classmates, what’s the problem?”

Cas opened his mouth, only to close it again. Everything he wanted to say suddenly sounded petty and childish in his mind. 

“Ya know, if its bugs you so much, you’re more than welcome to tag along,” Dean said, thinking that might placate the weapon from whatever was bothering him. 

“I’m not a people person,” Cas stated.

“See! You can’t get grumpy at me for hanging out with people without you if you refuse to even try and hang out! You can’t become a people person without actually interacting with other _people_.” 

Cas tilted his head slightly. “I’ve been spending time with Sam, Ruby, and Meg,” he said. The _without you_ was unspoken but clearly there. 

“Bookworm and company don’t count,” Dean said. 

“I’m comfortable around them,” Castiel said. 

“Well, if you don’t try to hang with other people, you can’t know who else you’d be comfortable around either, won’t ya?” Dean shot back. His Winchester temper was going to come through if they kept this up much longer. 

“Did it ever occur to you that your new friends want _nothing_ to do with me?” Castiel asked quietly. “They like you just fine, you’re handsome and interesting. Me? I’m just the quiet, stoic partner with a gravelly voice who burned several people’s hands at Orientation. Remember that? People gave me a wide berth after that.” 

Dean opened his mouth, then shut it quickly. In hindsight, he could now remember the wide paths around Cas as they walked to class, the whispers of other students as they walked past. At the time, Dean had been carefree and oblivious. Now he felt both guilty as hell for not seeing it, and pissed for not sticking up for Cas.

“So…you’re mad because I’ve been hanging out with people who are, what, afraid of you?” 

Cas looked at him for a few long seconds, before breaking the stare and saying “Yes,” quietly. However, he hesitated too much, and Dean was not letting him off the hook that easily. 

“Come on Cas, we’re hashing this out right now. If you’ve got something else to say, spit it out.”

Cas’s head snapped back up, intense blue eyes looking pissed as hell. Dean could have sworn he felt a crackle of electricity come from the weapon. 

“Alright. I wish, if you were going to try and find another partner, that you wouldn’t do it behind my back, Dean.” 

Dean was expecting something, but he was not imagining anything in that particular ballpark. He almost fell out of his chair in utter shock. “Wha—wha—what the _fuck_ are you talking about?” he managed to say, not sure if it was shock or blatant anger that was making him stutter. 

“It’s the obvious thing to do. I couldn’t protect you during our fight with the kishin-egg, so it makes sense you would try and find someone who can do the job properly.” 

Dean’s face was still frozen on his shocked face, but he suddenly was laughing. Laughing so loud, he even slapped his knee in his mirth. The hunter’s laughter was infectious, and it was a workout for Cas to not even smile, despite his anger. 

“Oh, seriously, Cas? You’re _jealous_?” Dean asked, his laughter finally beginning to subside. Getting up, he came over to sit on the couch with Cas, the weapon looking at him wearily. 

“Dean, what are you--” Cas’s question was cut short when Dean smacked him upside the back of the head. Hard. Cas narrowed his eyes dangerously at the hunter, but Dean glared right back. 

“You,” Dean said, poking Cas in the chest with every word. “Are. A. DUMBASS.” 

“I wouldn’t do that, Dean,” Cas growled. Actually growled. 

“I like to live on the edge,” Dean shot back, and poked him again. “Look here, Castiel Novak,” he said, getting the weapon’s full attention. _God, I sound like my Mom,_ Dean thought. He remembered how Ellen used this same tone with him or Bobby when she wanted to point out what they were doing or thinking was stupid. It was her job to keep the peace in the house, after all. 

“You really think—actually, truly believe--that I would ditch you over a friggin’ gash? God, do I really come off as that big an asshole to you? Seriously? It’s my job to watch out for both you and me, you idjit,” he said, channeling Bobby for a moment. “You know what I did without you for years? I hunted monsters, and not a shadow monster with a bad taste in hairdos, either. Ghosts, demons, a rugaru. I killed a friggin’ werewolf on my own, Cas, and I’m still breathing. Why are you so hung up on me abandoning you, ditching you for another partner?” 

Dean paused his tirade to let Cas answer him, but the weapon would not look at him. Silence reigned for a few moments, and Dean was almost afraid he’d pushed too hard, but he silenced that argument in his head.

“My father is Chuck Novak,” he said, seemingly out of nowhere. Dean almost interrupted him, but the look on Cas’s face made him close his mouth with an audible clack. 

“I had a large family, lots of brothers and sisters, but my older brother Raphael and I were the only ones to be Angel Blades. My father left us when I was barely more than a child, and Raphael raised us himself. Since he and I were the only Angel Blades in the family, he trained me, raised me to be a weapon more than a brother. What is a simple ‘gash’ to you is an unacceptable failure to him. He would have traded me for a better partner in an instant.” 

Dean’s hand formed a fist while Castiel spoke, slowly tightening up until the veins in his forearm were standing out. Cas looked at him, unsure what was happening. 

“Cas,” Dean said, voice low and dangerous. “Can I say something and you promise not to be mad?”

“Um, sure?”

“Your brother is a bag of dicks,” Dean said firmly. Cas’s mouth opened slightly in surprise at that. He felt the anger rise up at Dean’s disrespecting his brother. However, he had promised not to be angry, so he ignored the feeling.

“You want to know something, Cas? There’s a reason I’m not going to just cut and run from you, and it’s got nothing to do with collecting kishin-eggs or hunting monsters or girls or your family or anything. I’m not ditching you because you. Are. My. _Friend_!” Dean said, poking Castiel again to make his point. 

“You’re my first friend outside of my weird-ass family and our hunting connections, and you think I’m just going to throw that away? Nope, sorry Cas, but you’re stuck with me. I know, a real trial considering how—what did you describe me as?—‘handsome’ and ‘interesting’ I am.” 

The last part was no longer angry, but sarcastically teasing, and Cas managed to roll his eyes. They both ignored the blush that crept over the weapon’s cheeks as his words were used against him. 

“Got it, Castiel? I’m your friend, you’re my friend, and we’re in this together. We’re the dynamic duo. I’m Batman and you’re Robin, and nothing’s gonna stop us from defending our little slice of Gotham from any kishin-eggs or boogey-men.”

“I think I’d be more suited to be Batman, I’m clearly the brains of this outfit,” Cas said, striking Dean mutt for several seconds. 

“That’s harsh, Cas,” Dean said with a wounded tone to his voice, although the glint of humor in his green eyes kept Castiel from taking Dean serious. “And to think we’re were having a bonding moment.”


	17. Sam's First Hunt A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and the girls go after their first Kishin-Egg, and....well, things go awry.

A month later, Sam and the girls walked up to the unofficial group booth to find Dean, Cas, and Gabriel already there. After Dean and Castiel’s first major argument, Dean found his sudden popularity waning as quickly as it had come. As students started to get their first assignments, Dean and Castiel were no longer so special, and things returned to normal. Dean did admit that all the extra attention had been a major headache, though he’d had fun while it lasted. Now he spent his time with his real friends. Although Gabe was still a tricky pain and Kali was still haughty as all hell, he enjoyed the company. 

As Sam and the girls approached, it was obvious that all three were smiling nervously. 

“Hey, Sammy!” both Dean and Gabriel said simultaneously and then laughed. 

Even their refusal to call him Sam couldn’t knock to dopey grin off of his face. “Whatever, jerks,” he said, sliding into the booth, next to Gabe and Dean, the girls sitting next to Castiel. 

“What’s the occasion?” Dean asked, seeing their nervous energy and fidgeting legs. 

“We’re finally going on our first hunt!” Ruby said, unable to keep it to herself any longer. 

Dean reached across the table and shook Sam’s hand. “Congrats, man, you’re halfway there! After this all we have to do is get you laid, and you’ll finally be a real man!” 

“You can’t talk, hypocrite,” Sam said, making an exasperated, irritated, pouting face at him. 

Dean held up his hands, like he was shielding himself. “Dude, put the bitchface away, I was only kidding!” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “What an ass,” he muttered. 

“I’m confident you’ll do just fine,” Castiel said, smiling at Meg and Ruby. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Clarence,” Meg said with a grin and a wink at the weapon.

“Yeah, Sam was taking forever to let us actually get a hunt,” Ruby said around her spaghetti. 

“I wanted to make sure we were ready for it, deal with it,” he said, poking his own bowl of spaghetti, nerves making him no longer hungry. 

Dean leaned forward towards Sam, grinning earnestly. “Head up, Sam! You guys will be fine. No one else here at this school had me sparring with them every day for a week, and they’ve lived their own hunts just fine. So, eat up! You’re gonna need the energy,” Dean said. 

“Um, Dean? I think your mother hen is showing,” Gabriel said, munching on a candy bar. 

The hunter sputtered. “Knock it off, Gabriel! Stop being an ass,” he grumbled. 

Gabriel started laughing, loud and obnoxiously, pointing at Dean. “You…didn’t even… _deny_ it! Hahaha!” Gabe said, sides starting to hurt from the laughter. Now everyone was in on the fun, except Dean who blinked, then looked away, refusing to acknowledge them. “I hope the kishin-egg eats you!” he said, trying to sound as threatening as possible. 

It took a few minutes for everyone’s laughter to die down to a few remaining chuckles. Sam reached into his bag and pulled out two packets of sugar to put into his coffee. Gabriel grinned. “Ah, Sam, still don’t trust me?” the boy asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Absolutely not,” Sam said without hesitation. 

“I’m hurt, really and truly wounded,” Gabriel said in mock sadness. 

“Sure, and I’m a two-headed snake,” Sam said. 

“Do you want to be? Because I can totally make that fantasy of yours come true,” Gabriel said seriously. He leaned towards Sam, staring at him intensely, then snapped his fingers right in front of Sam’s eyes, making him jump instinctively.

“Darnit, Gabriel!” The boy said, and Gabriel had another long laugh. 

“Lighten up, Sammy! Kishin hunting isn’t that bad. Just keep your wits about you, and you’ll be fine,” Gabriel offered in a moment of seriousness.

“You can’t give the kid advice when you haven’t had the experience yourself,” Dean said around a mouthful of pie. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Who says I haven’t?”

“No way,” Ruby said, looking to catch him in a lie. “You’ve got your first already?”

Gabriel shrugged, keeping his trap shut. 

“Seriously? When did that happen?” Dean asked. 

“Last week,” Gabriel said smugly. “Kali’s been real impatient when it comes to graduating with top honors. She apparently had the notion in her head that’s she’s going to turn me into a Death Scythe in less than two years.” 

“That’s a kishin a week, consistently, for two years. Did she consult you about this course of action?” Cas asked the other weapon. 

“Hey, it means I get out of here in two years, too, so I’m game. Besides, she promised to buy me all the candy I wanted.” 

“You’re relationship with confections is borderline disturbing,” Cas admitted. 

“So’s your crush on your partner, yet we don’t bring that up in public, do we?” Gabe shot back. Castiel fixed his intense star on Gabe, and blue eyes stared into bronze ones for several seconds until Gabe jerked backwards. He looked down under the table, then at Cas accusingly. “Seriously, did you just _kick_ me under the _table_? What are you, _five_?” Yet it was obvious from his joking tone he thought Cas stooping to his level was hilarious.

"Between Castiel and Gabriel, I wonder who would come out on top?" Meg mused to herself. 

“Alright, alright,” Dean said. “Knock it off! Don't make me separate you to opposite corners of the table. ” It was discovered he was the oldest of the group, so he ended playing referee more often than not. 

“Not faaaaaiiiir,” Gabriel whined. “The opposition has the referee under his sphere of influence! Sam, buddy, back me up here.” 

Sam’s eyes opened wide, and he looked around, baffled. “I’m sorry, I must be hearing things, I thought I heard someone sounding like Gabriel call me ‘buddy.’” 

“Oh, real mature,” Gabriel said sarcastically. 

“Sam,” Castiel said, getting the other boy’s attention. “When and where are you hunting?”

Before Sam could answer, Meg bumped Castiel slightly, her face bright and excited. “You’re not going to believe this Clarence! We’re actually hunting a kishin-egg in _Las Vegas_!” 

There was a choking sound, and they looked to see Dean coughing as the water he was drinking got caught in his throat. After a moment of swallowing the liquid, he managed to squeak out “ _Vegas_? You’ve gotta be kidding me!” 

“Something good came out of Sam’s obsession with jogging at the crack of dawn,” Ruby said. “He managed to snag the assignment as soon as it hit the board.” 

“You lucky bastard! It’s totally not fair! We got the Twilight Zone, Gabe got his imagination--”

“Hey!”

“—and you got friggin’ Vegas?! Come on, you’ve gotta switch with me!” Dean begged. 

“No way!” Sam said. 

“Oh, come on! I’ve got the wonder kid who beat me at poker. Me. At Poker!” Dean said, motioning to Castiel. “He’ll clean out the entire Strip with that stoic face. Come on, Sam, you’re too straight-laced for this assignment!” 

As much as Sam was enjoying seeing the older boy sound like he was about to cry at the unfairness of it all, Sam shrugged. “Sorry. Besides, it’s not really in Vegas. Not the infamous part, anyway, it’s near the outer edge of the city.” 

“It doesn’t matter!” Dean said, slumping in the booth looking depressed. “Vegas….” 

Gabriel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a Snickers and offered it to Dean. “Here. You turn into a whiny little bitch when you’re hungry,” Gabriel teased. Dean snatched the bar before Gabe could change his mind. “Bite me,” Dean grumbled. 

“Where at?” Gabriel said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. Dean’s face was priceless, a look of horror and disgust. 

“Don’t worry, big guy, you aren’t my type anyways.” 

“So,” Castiel said loudly to Meg. “When are you leaving?”

“After dinner,” she said. “Right, Sam?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah. Hopefully it will only take a few hours to get there, knock off the kishin-egg, then either ride back or spend the night in a motel.” 

“Well, good luck to all of you,” Castiel said sincerely, nodding to Meg, Ruby, and Sam. Meg bumped him again with a smile that seemed to light up her chocolate eyes. “We’ll be just fine, Castiel.” 

~*~

The hunt was going smoothly until they actually found the kishin-egg, about to rip someone to pieces in a dark alley. The middle-aged guy was on his back, trying to fend off the approaching monster, shock and terror preventing him from yelling out. 

“Hey! Asshole!” Ruby yelled, and the monster froze in its steps. Its head craned around unnaturally, and Sam suddenly felt his heart jump into his throat. The kishin was in a bizarre black and white costume, but its face was deathly white, with blue circles around its white eyes, and the red splotch on is nice and smeared across its mouth was no make-up. It was blood. It smiled at them, and huge, jagged shark’s teeth filled that hellish smile. 

“ _Cl-cl-clown_!” Sam said, terror gripping him tight and not letting go. Meg and Ruby looked at their meister, eyes suddenly wide when they realized Sam was no longer next to them, but was running the opposite direction as fast as humanly possible. 

“Sam! Shit, run, Ruby!” Meg hissed, following after her meister, her face burning with embarrassment and exertion. She glanced over her shoulder to see the guy was running away from the alley, too, but the kishin-egg was gone. That sent a shiver down her spine. 

Two blocks later, and Meg almost ran past them, but Ruby grabbed her and pulled her into an alley with Sam. The boy was only barely taller than them, but he looked so much smaller when he was gripped in absolute fear. He was leaning against the wall and doubled over, hands on his knees supporting him as he tried to get his breath back. 

“Sam—you mind filling—us in—on what the hell that was?!” Meg demanded between pants. She spoke in a whisper, just in case the thing had followed them.

“Sam, you ran from our first kishin-egg!” Ruby hissed accusingly. Sam held up a hand to make them quiet for a moment. “It was—a— _clown_!” he panted, voice going an octave higher when he said what it was. 

“No shit,” Ruby whispered. 

Realization hit Meg suddenly, but she couldn’t believe it. “No, please don’t tell me you’re--”

“Terrified of clowns?” Sam offered sheepishly. 

Ruby rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “That’s ridiculous; we don’t have time for this! That thing is going be on our butts any second. So suck it up, partner, and let’s kill this thing!” 

Before Sam could even shake his head in exasperation— _how do you get someone understand your sheer terror?_ —there was a maniacal laughter from the other end of the alley, and there it was, standing about 50 feet away, leering at the three teenagers.

Sam squeaked, legitimately squeaked in horror, as the monster took a few menacing steps towards them. The things head actually spun around 180 degrees, and Sam almost passed out. 

While Ruby stood there, looking unsure between Sam and the kishin-egg, Meg took a chance and shook Sam vigorously, trying to snap him from his horror. “Sam! SAM! Wake up, you idiot!” she snarled, but Sam’s eyes were frozen wide, and his face was deathly pale. Without hesitation, she hauled back and smacked him across the face, hard. 

That woke him up, and he looked down at Meg, rubbing his burning cheek. “Ow, Meg, what the hell?!”

“Get it together, cowboy, we’ve got a job to finish!” she said sternly. Without warning, both she and Ruby suddenly changed into their weapon forms amid a flash of light. Ruby’s Demon Knife form was in Sam’s right hand, and Meg’s Shield was encasing his left. He looked at his partners, then at the clown monster, which was only about 20 feet away now. It licked its lips at Sam, who was still trembling uncontrollably. 

_Remember our training, Sam!_ Meg’s voice said in his mind. 

_This ugly ass monster will be a piece of cake!_ Ruby said. 

He looked up, and took a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay, okay, I’ve got this, I’ve got this.” 

The clown suddenly was flying— _flying_ —at him, arms out with claws for fingers, ready to rip the boy to shreds. Sam yelped and ducked at the same time, and the clown missed him. He managed to dig Ruby into the kishin’s side as it flew past, and an unearthly howl erupted from the monster, its blood spilling to the ground. 

Sam backed down the alley, and the monster leapt at him again, trying to slash at him with his claws. Sam managed to raise the shielded gauntlet in time, and the claws bounced off, but his arm was bruised from the impact. “Ow, shit!” Sam yelped. “Meg you okay?!”

 _That hurt like hell,_ Meg said. _But I’m fine. Just kill this thing, already!_

He used the shield to dodge another blow, the clown now looking angry that Sam was still alive. It hauled back its left arm and hit Sam right in the gut, sending him flying into the brick wall behind him. Pain ricocheted along his back and chest, knocking the breath from him. Sam fell limply to the dirty pavement, his right side hurting so bad he almost could not think. _Must have broken a rib or two_ , he thought, but aloud he moaned. 

The knife was several feet away, Ruby’s face looking out from the blade in horror. _Sam!_ She called out in his mind. 

The clown kishin suddenly grabbed Sam around the neck and picked him up effortlessly and pinned him to the wall. His feet were dangling at least a foot off the ground.

The thing let out a terrifying howl of laughter mere inches from his face, and Sam almost had the mind to piss himself right then and there, but the claws were cutting off his air. He pulled at the hand as much as possible, gasped for breathe. Blackness started to swirl into his vision as the lack of oxygen started to cause him to lose consciousness. 

_SAM!_ Meg roared, and a huge jolt of energy shot through his system, causing him to yelp. Without thinking, he raised his gauntlet –protected arm and brought it down, hard, on the clown’s arm, causing it to drop him with a roar of pain. Pain shot through his side at the hard impact, but he was able to ignore it for a few precious seconds to scramble away and snatch up Ruby. 

The kishin-egg whipped around and lunged forward, it’s snapping jaws full of jagged teeth going for Sam’s exposed neck. He ducked low and used its momentum against it. With the shield, he carried the kishin over his body and slammed it into the ground behind him, stunning it for a few precious seconds. Sam whipped around and showed Ruby downward, plunging the knife into the kishin’s chest. He twisted it for good measure, and ripped the blade back out savagely. 

He managed to stagger a few steps back and watch the kishin start to unravel, a stunned look on its bloodied face. It then burst apart in a cloud of shadows, and a red ball of light was left floating in its stead. 

Ruby and Meg rematerialized beside him, both looking exhausted, though Meg was shaking and had a horrific bruise on her face. “Ow,” she moaned, hand cupping her face gently. 

Sam gently grabbed her chin and turned her head, letting him see the wound. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

She smiled, but immediately regretted it. “Yeah, boss, I’m fine. What about you?”

Sam was hunched over slightly, his right arm curled around his abdomen and his hissed in pain every time he had to breath. He swallowed, trying to keep himself from vomiting as pain like lightning lazily licked its way up and down his chest. His bangs were plastered to his forehead from sweat, and his clothes were covered in muck. 

Ruby wrapped her arm around his waist, trying to hold him up. However, she could not help her enthusiasm. “We did it!” Ruby said, sounding more incredulous than was healthy. “We actually killed it!” 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you weren’t sure we would,” Sam chided. She huffed. 

“Well, it’s sorta hard to kill something when you’re running away from it at warp speed, don’t cha think?” she teased.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, an embarrassed blush creeping up his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mumbled, then moaned. “Ow, shit, that hurts.”

“Who gets first dibs?” Meg asked. Since there was only one egg and two weapons, it was up to Sam to see who ate the first egg. After looking at them, he pointed to Meg. “All yours!” 

“What! I did all the work!” Ruby whined. 

“Yeah, and Meg took all the hits,” Sam said, while motioning for Meg to eat it. A little smugly, she grabbed the squishy egg and swallowed it quickly. 

Both Sam and Ruby watched her. “What did it taste like?” Sam asked. 

Meg thought about it for a second. “It felt like I was eating a giant tapioca ball of lightning.” 

“What a shocking revelation,” Ruby said with a smirk. 

Before Meg could chide her sister on terrible puns, there was the sound of a throat being cleared coming from the alley behind them. Sam whipped around, immediately stepping in front of the girls to protect them, groaning from the movement. 

Standing about 10 feet away was a man, about Sam’s height but of a stockier build, and short brown hair. He was dressed in black slacks and a black button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He had red suspenders and a red tie as well, and he had the air of “smug businessman” radiating from him, though he was currently scowling at them.

What really got Sam’s attention was the large black dog standing next to him. Its head was just above his waist, but its’ eyes were glowing red. Sam immediately felt his brow break into a cold sweat. That thing looked big enough to eat him and still be hungry for seconds.

“Congrats, boy, you’ve offed your first kishin-egg,” he said with a Scottish accent. “Do you feel tingly in your nethers?”

Sam’s mouth open and closed a few times, unsure how to even respond. He decided to go with a safe: “Who are you?”

“We,” he said motioning to him and the hound, “were the ones who were one that kishin’s trail. And we were the ones who were supposed to get that egg, until some _moron_ stole it!” he barked, and the dog lowered its head slightly to growl at the three students. 

“Your egg?” Ruby asked, although it sounded more incredulous.

“Yes, mine. What, is there an echo here? I was doing just fine until you idiots showed up and distracted it!” 

Meg scoffed. “You’re a meister?”

“The DWMA doesn’t send multiple students on a single kishin-egg. So what are you really?” Sam asked. 

The man glared at them. “You think the DWMA controls everything? Oh, that’s cute. I don’t need to go to some fancy Academy to kill kishin-eggs. I’ve been doing fine my own. You,” he pointed at Meg. “You owe me an egg!” he snapped.

“So what, you’re a rogue meister?” Ruby asked. 

He switched his gaze to her. “Call me what you what, still doesn’t change the fact that you stole my egg.” 

“Look,” Sam said, deciding that a peaceful solution should be attempted. “We didn’t know. We got the assignment, we came here. We didn’t mean to intrude. I’m Sam, and this is Meg and Ruby. We’re sorry.” He held out his hand, and tried not to wince when his ribs protested.

The man glared at him, but didn’t move forward to take it. After a moment, Sam let it fall to his side. The man rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, for the love of—fine! It’s Crowley, okay? Stop with the wounded puppy eyes already,” he muttered. 

“Okay, Crowley, if you’re a meister, where’s your partner?” Ruby asked smugly, thinking she had caught him in his lie. 

Instead, he smirked, and ruffled the top of the dog’s head between its ears. 

“Oh come on. That’s impossible,” Meg said. 

“For you lot, maybe. You can do all sorts of things when the Grim Reaper isn’t breathing down your neck. Must be a pain in the arse.” 

“Why a dog?” Sam asked, curiosity getting the best of him. “ _How_ a dog?”

“Loyalty, courage, no back sass. There’s a reason they’re called man’s best friend. As for the how? A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.” Crowley was obviously enjoying showing off, if his eternal smirk was any indication.

“So, you’re Crowley and he’s….?”

“Growley,” the man said fondly, scratching the dog’s ear. Seeing the surprised look on their faces, he rolled his eyes and huffed. “I know. I’m an inconceivable wit. Done staring now? Good, because as much as I’d love to continue this lively banter,” he said, looking him and Meg. “You and your friends look like shit warmed over. Might want to get those ribs checked out sooner rather than later.”

Sam looked at Meg and immediately felt guilty when he saw how pale and worn out she looked, even after eating the kishin-egg. Never mind that Sam was suffering some serious rib breakage and clown-inspired PTSD. 

Crowley had distracted them long enough; however when he looked back, Crowley and Growley were gone. 

“What the--?” he said. 

“Where the hell is he?” Meg demanded. 

“I don’t know, but I’d like a shower, for the love of God,” Ruby said. “You weren’t the one shoved into a monster’s chest. I’m starting to think I got the short straw of this partnership.”

Meg and Ruby helped support him as they made their way back to their hotel. Sam couldn’t help but look back and wonder about the strange duo. _Wonder if we’ll meet again?_


	18. Sam's First Hunt B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all hunts go smoothly....

The hotel was about ten blocks from the alley; it was one of those dingy places with a ridiculous theme for the wallpaper and mismatched furniture from years of wear. Sam was really glad they’d already purchased a room for the night, even if the room had horribly tacky fish wallpaper, and plastic singing bass for room decoration. When they dragged themselves into the room, almost collapsing from exhaustion, Sam smiled at the horrendous décor. “Home sweet home,” he said, a painful chuckle escaping him. 

“He’s worse than we thought,” Ruby said seriously. The girls managed to carefully perch Sam on the end of one of the two queen-sized beds. He moaned involuntarily. 

Despite how tired the girls looked, they couldn’t let him suffer for much longer. They removed their jackets and shoes, and helped Sam out of his shoes and jacket. “I think, if you lay down, we can try the healing spell,” Meg said, Ruby nodding. 

Sam took a breath (not too deep because it would make his ribs hurt again), and bit his lip to not cry out when he finally managed to lay on his back. If he was in less pain, he might have felt really awkward with Meg and Ruby on their knees next to the bed. They held hands, and Meg gently pushed up Sam’s t-shirt to reveal the black and blue bruises across his ribs. Each sister gently placed a hand on the ribs, and Sam hissed again. At least their hands were cool, in contrast to the swollen area they were touching. 

“Just…try not to break anything else,” he said, trying to make a joke, and failing horribly. 

“Your confidence is overwhelming,” Meg said snidely. They did not need him to remind them they had never tried the spell before, and that they could hurt Sam further if they screwed it up.

Meg and Ruby closed their eyes and started to concentrate. They opened their energy pathways, and started passing bursts of energy to Sam. They tried to imagine the ribs becoming fixed, and their energy started to knit together the bones in his chest. Unfortunately, Sam couldn’t help but groan out in pain, and his fists clenched into the blanket under him as he tried to hold still. The pain both grew and dissipated while the girls healed him, coming and going in bursts. Their foreheads were covered in sweat, and Sam knew his voice was going to be wrecked from crying out in pain, despite clenching his teeth to try and keep quiet.

The pain suddenly stopped. Well, sort of. Instead of a piercing pain it was now a dull ache, a bruise but nothing more. The ribs were healed. 

The girl’s opened their eyes and looked about to pass out. They were both ashen, with bloodshot eyes and chapped lips. “You look marginally better,” Meg said. 

“Thank you,” Sam said, as sincerely as possible. He sat up slowly, and was glad to see he could move without feeling like he was on the receiving end of a lightning bolt. He went to the mini-fridge and grabbed three bottles of water, handing one to each sister. Ruby gulped hers down instantly. Meg took a few sips, then closed replaced the lid and held the cool bottle against the bruise on her face. She sighed in relief. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she joked. 

Sam pulled himself up on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard, his eyes fluttering closed. “I’m so sorry,” he said, managing to crack open an eye at Meg, who looked like she was about to pass out still sitting on the floor, her arms and head on the bed. She looked at him and waved him off. “We’re alive. A few bruises aren’t a big deal.” 

“No,” Sam tried to say adamantly, though it sounded more like a whine from the bone deep exhaustion. “I should—*yawn*—have done better to protect you two.” 

“Shut up, Sam,” Ruby said. She crawled onto Sam’s bed and curled up next to him, curling around one of his pillows.

“Get in your own bed, it’s why we got two,” Sam protested sleepily. 

“Too far away,” Ruby mumbled. “Anyways, Sam, don’t—*yawn*—freak out anymore. You…did…okay for...a nerd…zzzzzzz.” He looked over to see she was fast asleep.

Sam patted Meg on the shoulder, waking her up. “Come on, sleepyhead,” he mumbled, and scooted over to allow Meg to stretch out and fall asleep on his other side. The three of them sleep soundly, curled together in a protective lump.

~*~  
Sam jerked up, a gasp of horror on his lips as he sat up from the bed. He sat there for a few moments breathing heavily, his heart racing so fast in his chest it almost hurt. Flashes of the clown-kishin’s grinning maw flickered in his mind, and he shuddered. 

Ruby was suddenly in front of him, sitting on the bed and shaking his shoulders gently. “Hey, Sam, snap out of it.” He blinked a few times and focused on his partner. Her dark brown/almost black eyes were brimming with concern, where normally she was withdrawn and cool. “Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

Sam sat up fully, and winced when his bruised chest sent a dull throb through him. He ran his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. He looked at Ruby, and noticed her hair was wet and straight, and her clothes were changed. In fact, he could hear the shower in the other room, and the smell of strong coffee assaulted his nose.

“You let me sleep in,” he said, almost in an accusing tone. Mostly because he was always the first one up, and usually had to drag the girls from their beds in order to get to class on time. 

“Yeah, well, you were tossing and turning all night,” she stated. “Thought you could use a little more shut eye.” 

Suddenly, Sam’s eyes widened, and his face started to change from pale to cherry red, the blush taking over his face.

“What, what’s wrong?” Ruby asked. She looked at Sam’s face (well, he had hidden it in the crook of his elbow). “Ooooh, are you freaking out because you slept in the same bed with two beautiful girls?”

Sam poked his head out enough to glare at her. 

Ruby laughed loudly. “Oh, that’s rich! You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. But you should totally tell Dean you slept with us; I bet he’d _die_ from jealously!” 

Sam scowled at her, but he grinned when he imagined Dean’s shocked face. “You know what? That’s a great idea! He deserves it.” 

Ruby smacked his arm in solidarity. “That’s the spirit! But, are you feeling better now?”

Though the dream was just a dream, the feel of the kishin-egg’s teeth clamping around his neck was still too real to shake off. The teeth tearing into his neck, the gush of warmth over his chest as his blood ran from his torn jugular; he could still feel those phantoms pains. However, he looked at his partner and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I didn’t keep you up did you?”

“I slept like a log. I think Meg heard you more than anything, but she seems to be feeling fine, so you must not have been too loud.” Ruby walked over to tiny table with a single cup coffee maker, and a minute later brought him a Styrofoam cup. The mocha-colored liquid inside was still steaming and warmed his hands. “Thanks,” he said, still not looking at her. He tried not to imagine his two female partners curled up around him, tried not to think about how beautiful and cool he thought they were or anything. Sam had managed to forget he lived with two girls for the past few months, but suddenly realizing he’d slept in the same bed with them….

He carefully placed a pillow on his lap and prayed to whatever deity was listening that Ruby wouldn’t question it. He started drinking his coffee slowly, and wished fervently Meg would get out of the bathroom soon. 

Something answered him, because Meg came out from the bathroom, fluffing her hair with a towel, the wavy locks like ink running down her back. Her face was less swollen, the bruise concentrated around her right eye, but was now more yellow than blue. It matched her tank-top, and her black jeans finished her ensemble. She looked at her sister, than at Sam, who was staring resolutely at his coffee. 

“How are you feeling, Sam?” Meg asked. She walked over and changed the filter to make her own coffee. 

“I’m okay. And thank you, again,” he said somberly. She waved him off. 

He rolled out of the bed, grabbed his duffel, and stole the bathroom. The water was almost cold in the shower, but he did not care. He just wanted to wash away the blood, the sweat, and the failure. Yes, the kishin was killed, and yes, he and the girls were fine. But they had to heal him on the first hunt, and he was not proud of that fact. _I need to become stronger. I need to make the three of us so strong no kishin on earth can stand before us. That’s what we need to do._

When he came out a few minutes later, dressed in a clean shirt and jeans, both Meg and Ruby were sitting on their bed, both leaning close together, a cell phone between them so they both could hear whomever was talking. 

“Of course, Dad, we’re fine,” Ruby said, rolling her eyes. Sam could hear a tiny voice from the phone, but could not make out any words. He quietly walked around their room to pack and finish getting dressed as silently as possible.

“Yes, Meg protected me. We actually healed our partner’s broken rib with no problems!” Ruby said. 

“We’re didn’t get hurt Dad,” Meg reassured the voice quickly, while glaring at Ruby. “Yes, yes, yeah Dad, I know! Oh, and my friend Castiel says to pass along his congrats to Mondo. Now, we’ve gotta go Dad. Yes, Dad, we promise. Love you too, Bye.”

The second the phone call was over Meg smacked Ruby on the back of the head. “Stupid! Don’t mention the mojo to him! You know he doesn’t like weapon talk.” 

“You didn’t have to resort to violence,” Ruby pouted, rubbing her head. 

Sam could not help but interrupt. “Your Dad doesn’t know you’re weapons?”

Meg scoffed. “Oh, no, he knows. He just doesn’t like the idea. Any talk of magic freaks him out, so we keep quiet. He likes to pretend we’re at a school for badassery, but not what kind.” 

“That sounds unhealthy,” Sam offered. 

“Hey, Sam, what about your folks?” Ruby asked. “I mean, I’ve never seen you call anyone before, and having a successful kishin-egg kill under your belt is something to phone home about, don’t you think?”

Sam was on the other bed, pulling on his shoes. He did not look at the girls, but there was suddenly tension in the room were a moment ago there was none. 

“You…have a family…don’t you Sam?” Meg asked. 

Sam looked at them from the corner of his eyes, and narrowed them slightly. It was a look of incredible sadness, but also barely-held in anger. He bit his lip and looked away, but said quietly “Just…don’t bring it up again, okay?” 

The girls looked at each other, eyes wide. Ruby shrugged. 

He stood up and turned around, a small smile on his lips, but an unfathomable sadness in his hazel eyes. “Come on, you two, let’s go get some breakfast. I’m starving, aren’t you?” he with false cheerfulness.

Meg’s stomach rumbled loudly, and the awkward tension in the air dissipated as the girl’s finished getting dressed and packing their bags. 

“Let’s go for pancakes,” Ruby suggested. Sam shrugged and Meg agreed, pancakes were the perfect post kishin-hunt breakfast. They gravitated to the red and black Kawasaki motorcycles parked in front of the motel room. Ruby hopped on her bike and it roared to life; Meg got onto the other one and Sam hesitated for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around her waist as he settled behind her. Luckily when the girls came to the DWMA they packed an extra helmet, and it fit Sam with a little room for growth. 

The bike roared to life and he clung to the girl’s body, trying not to come off as attempting to cop a feel while trying to stay on the bike. His rib was not exactly happy with the speed at which Meg drove, but he hung on for dear life, the roar of the engine between his legs vibrating his whole body. He just wanted to get back to school and relax.


	19. Which Winchester?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when things were falling into place, Life had to come and turn things upside down

Sam, Ruby, and Meg dragged themselves into the cafeteria in the early evening. The long drive back, the debriefing by Lord Death, and the trip to the infirmary to make sure both Sam’s rib and Meg’s face were healing properly had taken up most of the day. The teenagers were tired and starving, yet they managed to perk up when they spotted Dean and Cas in the usual oversized booth they usually sat at. 

Dean’s face broke into a huge grin when he saw them approaching. “Guys! How did it go?” he asked, excited like a child on Christmas. Sam slide tiredly into the booth next to Dean, and the girls sat on the other side with Castiel. 

Seeing their shoulders slumped and the fading bruise on Meg’s face, Dean’s grin faltered. “So, how bad does the other guy look?” he tried to joke, but the concern was there. 

“Well,” Sam said, sighing heavily. “Could’ve been better, though. Broke my rib, but Meg and Ruby were able to patch me up.” 

Dean’s eyes grew wide, and he grabbed Sam’s shirt and lifted it up, ignoring Sam’s sputtering protests and seeing the colorful patchwork bruise of purple, blue, and yellow. 

“Jesus, Dean!” Sam said indignantly, shoving his shirt back down, cheeks red. 

“Holy hell, Sam. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“The nurses okayed us,” Ruby said. “Stop molesting my partner, or get a room.” 

While Dean accosted Sam, Castiel gripped Meg’s chin and gently turned her face towards his, his blue gaze wandering over the fading bruise on her face. He looked immeasurably disturbed by the injury. Meg gently pulled away. “I know, not exactly my best look. Sam took the brunt of the kishin’s anger, though.” 

She was not used to be fussed over, that was usually reserved for Ruby since she was the youngest. When his intense staring got to her, she said more forcefully “I’m fine, Castiel. I promise. You should’ve seen the kishin-egg,” she said with bravado and smiled. 

He simply nodded, and let her go. When he turned back to the table to see Ruby was laughing loudly, Sam had slumped over, his head on his arms, and Dean was trying gallantly not to laugh.

“So, let me get this straight…the first kishin you fought was a clown? And you have a…pfft…a _clown_ phobia?”

“He _ran_!” Ruby gaffed, tears running down her face. “We turned around and he was _gone_. Two blocks away!” 

“Shut up Ruby!” Sam’s muffled voice tried to command. The effect was lost when his ears started to turn beet red.

Dean slapped him on the back, laughing now. “Oh, God’s gotta sense of humor doesn’t he? Ha! So what is it, the red nose or the big shoes that scare the hell out of you?”

“It’s not like that; just leave it alone,” Sam moaned. 

Dean patted him reassuringly, saying between dying chuckles, “Okay, okay, I’m done.” 

Just then, Gabriel arrived, sans Kali. As he walked over towards the table he called out cheerfully, “Hey! Winchester!”

Dean leaned forward and Sam looked up. “What, Gabriel?” they asked in tandem.

There was a beat of silence, until they looked at each other, eyes narrowed at the other boy.

“I thought he was talking to me?” Dean asked. 

“So did I,” Sam answered, eyes growing wide. He sat up, and slumped against the back of the booth, looking at Dean. 

Dean said “But he said Winchester, which is--”

“—My last name,” Sam finished. They looked at each other. 

Dean put his hand on his chest, green eyes watching Sam closely. “Dean Winchester.” 

Sam pointed to himself. “Sam Winchester.” 

They gawked at each other for a few seconds. Gabe walked up, then looked at Sam and Dean who were staring at each other. “What are they doing?” he asked, standing at the table awkwardly. 

For an answer, Ruby moved over and patted wait little space there was for him to sit. “Things just got interesting,” Meg whispered to the boy with a little chuckle. 

Castiel leaned forward. “Usually when people share a last name they’re a related,” he said simply.

Ruby looked at him. “No shit, Cas!” she trailed off, then looked at them. Neither had moved, still frozen in surprise. “ _Are_ you two related?” she asked. 

“People can have the same last name, and not be related,” Sam said, rattling off that fact but not really buying into it. 

Apparently Dean did not either, because he scoffed. “Dude, this isn’t ‘Smith’ or ‘Johnson’. Winchester is a freakin’ weird name for two random people to have!” Dean ran both hands through his hair, trying to keep from freaking out. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I could ask the same thing!” Sam said, running one hair through his hair, mirroring the movement.

“My parents are Bobby and Ellen Winchester, what about yours?” Dean demanded. 

Sam visibly relaxed a little. “See? Must be a coincidence. My mom was Mary and my…my father was John Winchester.”

He looked at Dean, expecting him to be laughing at the weird coincidence of the names, but he instead clenched his teeth and swallowed.

Dean looked at him, really stared at him for a few long moments, and Sam felt like he was talking to Castiel. Dean’s face was a little paler as he asked “You mean, John, as in _Uncle_ John? Holy shit, Sammy,” he said. “You’re my _cousin_!”

~*~

Ruby looked over at Gabriel to see his amber eyes were locked onto the boys, watching them intently while eating Milk Duds from a box in his hand. “Where did you get those?” Ruby whispered.

Gabriel put a finger over his lips. “Shhhhh! Don’t interrupt the movie,” he whispered back, and offered her some. Ruby passed one to Meg and then one to Castiel. The four of them sucked on their Milk Duds while watching intently the drama unfolding in front of them. Dean and Sam were so wrapped up in their own world they did not seem to realize they had an audience.

“No. No way, no way! You’re getting me confused with someone else,” Sam said adamantly, crossing his arms. 

“No, I’m not! I remember now! I remember chasing you around the scrapyard, playing hide and seek in and around the cars in the junkyard. My Mom tanned our hides because she was afraid we’d get tetanus.”

Sam seemed to think about it a few minutes, then shook his head. “No, I don’t remember that.” 

“Well, the last time we saw each other, we were four! What’s the earliest thing you remember then?”

Sam was quiet for a few minutes, then shook his head angrily. Without a word he left the booth, Dean hot on his heels, protesting the entire time. Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on! This was just getting good!” he called out after them. 

“Sam, wait! Sam, hold on a second,” Dean said, following Sam outside onto a patio area. It was a cooler evening, and already night out, so they had the area to themselves. Before them, Death City stretched out, a grid of lights and buildings that was noisy and alive in the warm evening.

Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulder and tugged him around so they were facing each other. 

“Leave me alone, Dean!” Sam said hotly, shrugging off the hand. Dean scowled at Sam. 

“Sam, what the hell? You find out your friend is actually your cousin, you don’t just turn tail! You say hi, share a handshake; you don’t run away. What’s your deal?” 

“Stop saying you’re my cousin!” Sam snapped. “You don’t know me, Dean!”

“Why are you freaking out?” Dean asked. 

Sam clenched his jaw, and Dean recognized it, as he saw it in the mirror often enough. Sam turned away, taking deep breathes and jittering with adrenaline. 

“You don’t know me,” Sam repeated. “I don’t have family.” He whipped around, and Dean saw that Sam’s eyes were glistening. “My mom died in a house fire when I was a little kid, and my dad….well, let’s just say he wouldn’t be winning any parent of the year awards.” 

Dean’s memories of that time were fuzzy, but he had an image in his mind of a happy blonde woman and a man with black hair and a beard. “Sam, I’m--”

“—Sorry? That’s nice, but it still doesn’t change anything. Just…just leave me alone. Please, just leave me be.” Without waiting for Dean’s response, Sam rushed off without another word. 

“What the HELL Sam?!” Dean snapped, and he kicked one of the patio chairs nearby, sending it crashing into a pile of other furniture. He stomped over to the railing that overlooked the glittering lights of the small city. He wrapped his hands around the railing and squeezed as hard as possible in his frustration. When he drained his strength he let go, and felt vaguely better. 

Dean strode back into the cafeteria after a few minutes to find that Meg and Ruby were gone, leaving Gabriel and Cas still seated in the booth. Both gave him looks of curiosity. 

“What happened?” Cas asked. Dean sighed in response as he slumped into the seat. “I don’t know!” he said in frustration. “He just told me to leave him alone repeatedly. I don’t think he believes me, but I know that’s my little cousin Sammy. I know it.”

“Well, to be fair Dean-o, if I found out I was related to you, I’d run as fast and far as humanly possible,” Gabriel said with a smirk. 

Dean glowered at the shorter boy. “Screw you, Gabriel.” 

“Oh, my fine sensibilities!” Gabriel replied in a ridiculously high-pitched voice with a Southern drawl. 

“Why does he not believe you?” Cas asked Dean. 

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know, he said something like ‘I don’t have any family, it’s impossible,’ blah, blah, blah. But it’s him. Same eyes, same nose, same bitch-face he’d pull when I found him in a particularly good hiding spot. I just couldn’t really put that Sam and this one together until I heard about Uncle John. Who, apparently, was an asshole to Sam?” Dean propped his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up anymore.” 

“Maybe I should go check on Sammy?” Gabriel offered. Both Cas and Dean looked at him with eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What?”

“I don’t think that Sam, in his current mindset, needs you playing one of your insufferable tricks on him in an attempt to be humorous,” Castiel said stoically. 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “What Cas said.” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes as he pulled a lollipop from his jacket pocket. “Relax fellas!” he said. “I don’t want to trick him. Just want to talk.” 

“Why?” Dean asked. “You barely know the guy. And he said for us to leave him alone.” 

“Well, it seems he told you to leave him alone. I’m off the hook. And I get where Sam’s coming from better than most. I’ve had family come out of the woodwork out of the blue before, and it wasn’t pretty.” 

Dean and Cas shared a look, apparently discussing it via meister/weapon radio. Gabriel fidgeted in his seat, and started playing with his fork, pretending not the notice their little pow-wow. 

After a few moments, Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine, fine. Gabe, as long as you promise not to torment Sam, or at least not be a big an ass as you usually are, then you can go talk to him.” 

“Aw, thanks for the permission, Dean! You’ve only known Sam was related to you for twenty minutes and you’re already become an overprotective idiot about it. Cute.” 

Dean ground his teeth together in annoyance. “You want his apartment number or not?”

~*~

It was almost eleven before Gabriel actually managed to get to Sam’s apartment. He knocked twice, quietly, just in case everyone was sleeping. He heard footsteps on the other side, and a few seconds later the door opened and Sam peered out.

“Gabriel,” Sam said, his voice quiet. “What, did Dean send you? I told him to leave me alone. I’m not in the mood.” 

Gabriel tilted his head slightly and tsked the taller boy. “Sam, Sam, Sam. I came here on my own accord, thank you very much. Thought I’d drop by and see if you wanted to talk.” 

“I’m fine,” Sam said. Gabriel smirked and he pointed past Sam into the apartment. Sam looked to see there was actually a worn path in the rug in the living room behind him. 

“Right. And you were wearing a hole in the carpet because you needed the exercise? Well, I hope that’s fun. If you wanna talk, I’m free game. I’m more of a neutral party than your other friends, so I’d thought I’d make the offer. But, it’s late, so I’ll leave you be.” 

Gabriel bowed his head in goodbye, and walked away. He was almost at the end of the hall when he heard the door close, and turned to see Sam in a jacket walking quickly towards him. He paused to let Sam catch up. “The girls passed out almost as soon as we got back,” Sam said. He looked at Gabriel, unsure what to do. 

“Let’s just go for a walk,” Gabriel offered, and Sam nodded silently. 

Luckily, a city in which the Grim Reaper was the mayor is one of the safest places to go walking around in the middle of the night. Gabriel and Sam walked up and down the cobblestone paths, sometimes passing another student or adult, but were mostly alone. Gabriel had to walk faster just to keep up with Sam, who seemed lost in his own head. They had been walking for a least 15 minutes before Sam actually spoke. 

“So, Gabriel,” Sam started, looking down at his feet as he walked. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

Gabriel shrugged casually. “Well, I speak from experience when I say random family members popping back into your life can leave your noodle well and truly scrambled. Thought you’d appreciate having this conversation with someone who can relate.” 

Sam slowed down his pace, and looked at Gabriel. “Experience?”

Gabriel pulled a box of Raisinets from the inside pocket of his jacket, and offering some to Sam. Sam thought about it, then nodded, and a few of the chocolate-covered raisins fell into his cupped palm. They found an empty bench between streetlights, and sat down in companionable silence, munching on the candies. 

“I ran away from home a few years ago,” Gabriel started suddenly. Sam turned to him, watching the shorter boy, his face impassive. “Not my best idea ever. To say that my family fights is an understatement; my family makes World War II look like Sunday dinner, and that’s a daily occurrence. I couldn’t take the fighting, the arguing, the stupidity, so I ran. Found another family who was willing to take me in, and things seemed a lot better. It was probably some of the happiest times of my life. Sure, the new family had their own problems, but I felt like I belonged.” 

Gabriel’s impassive face suddenly darkened, and his amber eyes gained a hard edge to them. “And then, all Hell broke loose. Michael, my oldest brother, found me. Demanded I come back home, back to the family. Told me that no one else was going to be there for me except them. He thought he was doing the right thing, that I belonged with them and needed to learn my place there. Well, I gave him the slip, and managed to make it to the DWMA. I’m safe here. If anything Kali would at least kick his ass for trying to take her weapon, but it’s the intention of the thing.” 

Gabriel turned his face towards Sam, and his eyes softened when he saw the look of sadness and empathy on Sam’s face. “I’m sorry, Gabe,” Sam said. For some reason, Gabriel did not mind when Sam used that stupid nickname on him. 

“Don’t worry about it, Sam-a-lam,” Gabriel said, his voice becoming more cheerful. He quickly tucked the personal history back under the mountain of smart-ass remarks and pranks he kept it under. Or, at least he tried to, but Sam looked so sad. 

“Don’t know which is worse,” Sam said with disgust. “A family that won’t let you go, or a family that abandoned you.” 

“You weren’t abandoned, Sam,” Gabriel started. He held up his hand when Sam glared at him in an accusatory manner. “About 15 minutes after you left the cafeteria, when I offered to talk to you, Dean basically told me he’d kick my ass if I did anything to bother you. He might be your cousin, but he was ready to jump to your defense immediately. That’s true family, right there.” 

Sam made a frustrated sound. “I don’t remember Dean, Gabriel! I don’t remember having a cousin or aunt or uncle. I wasn’t saying that just to piss Dean off; I honestly don’t remember. And if I did…” suddenly his eyes grew furious. “Then my father, who told me that I was essentially alone in this world besides him, was even more fucked up than I imagined.” 

“Extra grande fucked up,” Gabriel agreed. “He told you that you had no other family?”

“He never mentioned it, and I never thought to ask.” 

Gabriel leaned close to Sam, and motioned for him to come closer. “Know the great thing about family, Sam?” he asked in a whisper. Sam was surprised there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm to the question. “Family doesn’t end and begin with blood alone. Our families sucked, so we’ll make our own. Together. You’re on a slightly better footing than me because you have some decent family left, however. If Dean’s any indication, then his parents must be even cooler, and would probably be ecstatic to see you again. 

“So, Sam, I’m not going to bug you about your past, but at least keep in mind that, hey! You’ve got Ruby, Meg, Dean, Cas, and me with you. Maybe Kali if she gets out of the mud, but five outta six ain’t bad,” Gabriel said with a genuine smile, and ruffled Sam’s hair affectionately. 

“Cut it out, Gabe!” Sam moaned, and tried to fix his hair. 

Gabriel laughed. “Why bother, Sammy? No one else is here, lest you’re trying to look good for little ol’ me?” he teased. Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, and Sam actually sounded a little more happy. 

“So, did my pep talk do the trick?”

Sam thought it over for a moment. “I do feel better. Thank you, Gabe. I guess talking to you actually did help.” 

“Well, don’t sound so surprised! I am a genius, ya know.” 

Sam suddenly yawned loudly, and shook his head. “Guess that’s my cue to head home,” he said, standing up. Gabe mirrored him and started following Sam back to his apartment. 

“Don’t you live in the opposite direction?” Sam asked curiously. 

Gabriel grinned. “I’m seeing my duty to you through to the end, Winchester. Don’t want your cousin kicking my ass because you managed to catch the attention of the one random mugger in this city.” 

Sam shrugged, but was secretly glad to have the company. They walked back in silence, Gabe dutifully following him all the way back to his door. “Thanks again, Gabriel,” Sam said sincerely. 

The weapon grinned. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. What I mentioned is just between us, got it?”

Though the tone was joking, Gabriel was quite serious. Sam felt a little honored the boy deemed him fit to carry such a secret. Sam made a cross shape over his heart. “Hope to die,” he intoned.

“We don’t need to go that far. I was just starting to like you,” Gabriel chuckled. “Get some sleep, bookworm! And don’t overthink things with Dean. Just do like you’ve been doing.” 

Sam nodded, and yawned once again. He waved at Gabriel as he went inside, and Gabriel grinned to himself as the door closed in front of him. As he made his way back to his and Kali’s place, Gabriel felt very proud of himself. It was a different feeling to be nice and helpful, instead of the prankster chaos he usually caused others. _Sam’s a good guy. I hope he can work past his issues and learn to appreciate the finer things in life. Like good friends and good candy. He eats way too many salads; that can’t be healthy._

~*~

Dean’s cell phone rang in his pocket, and he turned it on to see a text waiting for him. 

_Sam’s doing better, just don’t remind him you’re related. He needs some time to get used to the idea. You owe me something covered in sugar. G_

“How am I supposed to ignore the fact that Sam’s my _family_?!” Dean growled. 

Castiel tilted his head at his partner. “If I hit your head with enough force, I might be able to give you amnesia. Would that be preferable?”

Dean blinked a couple times, then looked at his partner with his eyebrows raised. “Um, ya know what? I’m gonna have to decline that offer, Cas. Thanks, though.” 

“Good,” Cas replied, disappearing back over the edge of the top bunk. “There was a greater chance that would have put you in a coma anyway.”

“Well, Thanks for the consideration, Cas. Guess that’s your way of saying I just have to shut up and deal with it?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Well, you’re just a regular bun of fun,” Dean grumped, laying down on his own bunk. “Alright, alright, I’ll give him some time. But he better come around fast, I can’t deal with that angsty, emo-crap for too long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! First of all, thanks for reading! Secondly, unfortunately, I won't be able to update daily after this chapter for a while. I've posted all of the story I have saved up, and it's finals/graduation for the next few weeks. Let me survive college and graduation and I'll keep working up chapters when I can. Thanks for understanding and the love!


	20. The Cabaret Escapade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam, Meg, and Ruby finally return to the gang, they find out just what mischief Dean, Cas, and Gabriel manage to get into on their own!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Finally graduated and now have a touch more time to work on all my fanfics! Don't worry, I will be (hopefully) updating this regularly until its finished. Thanks for reading!

Sam didn’t come around for days, and Dean felt almost unbalanced when he had not seen half of his friends for the better part of a week. Sam didn’t speak to him in class or in the gym, and Sam didn’t eat in the cafeteria with him and Cas. He hated the fact that Sam was blatantly avoiding him; every instinct in his body wanted to go and make sure his younger cousin was doing okay. 

The only thing that helped Dean and Cas deal with Sam’s absence were the quick updates Ruby and Meg would still share with them on Sam’s mood. Between classes they would say hi, and would sometimes grab a quick coffee with the boys, but they normally stuck with their meister. 

Gabriel was around more afterwards, like he had been traded with Sam. Kali didn’t speak to anyone too often; she seemed to enjoy her own company more than anyone else’s. Gabriel seemed to have attached himself to Dean and Cas out of loneliness. 

Gabriel, Dean, and Cas were in the cafeteria almost a week later and eating dinner when there were suddenly three familiar visages walking towards them. Ruby looked vaguely annoyed and Meg had a minuscule smirk turning up the edge of her lips; the girls were followed by a shaggy-haired meister who wasn’t looking at the table as they approached. 

“Well, well, well, bookworm and company!” Dean said happily. His tone was more enthusiastic than he meant, but he ignored Gabriel’s arching his eyebrows at him. 

“Hey,” Ruby said, sitting next to Gabriel. Meg and Sam sat next to Castiel. “We have names, you know.”

“And?” Dean asked with a smirk. Ruby stuck her tongue out at him. 

There was a few seconds of awkward tension as Dean and Sam looked at each other. “Sam,” Dean said, still grinning, but his tone was more of a question.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said, rubbing his neck, still not really looking at Dean in the eye. “Um…so…”

“Forget it, Sammy,” Dean said seriously, waving it away.

Sam actually looked at him, surprise coloring his face. “What?”

“Look, Sam, you’ve got some issues. That’s fine, everyone’s got them. I’m just glad to have my friends back. So, forget it.” 

Sam’s shoulders shifted as the tension left them, and he grinned in relief. “Thanks, Dean.” 

Dean waved it away. “No chick-flick moments.” 

“As a chick, I resent that statement,” Meg said. 

“No, no, I agree. I want to actually eat my food without you two being doey-eyed at each other,” Ruby said, eating a sandwich.

“I’m starting to miss the time when it was just us guys,” Gabriel moaned. Ruby elbowed him in the ribs. It was only mostly playful.

“Well, I’m sure Cas missed us. Didn’t you, Castiel?” Meg asked pointedly, her eyes running up and down the weapon and smiled.

Castiel nodded, a grin on his face. “It was….different. A strange situation occurred last night while you were gone,” he admitted.

“Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all!” Meg replied, eyes wide. “What exactly did you guys get up to over the past four days?”

Gabriel’s face into a huge, mischievous smile, and he looked at Dean and Cas knowingly. “Please tell me I’m allowed to tell the story!” 

Dean was grinning, and Castiel was pointedly looking at the salt and pepper shakers on the table, and not at anyone. 

“Do I even want to know?” Ruby asked, glancing at Sam and Meg with a concerned look on her face. 

“Well, I do,” Meg said. “What have you been up too?” 

“Well, you guys know the cabaret club in District 8? Chupa-Cabras? Turns out that, while the girls are nice, the drinks are even better,” Gabriel said with a chuckle.

“But… you have to be 21 to get in…oh, you didn’t!” Sam said in disbelief. He scoffed. “You guys! How?”

“It’s a story, alright,” Gabriel said, settling in for story time.

~*~  
 _It had already been a couple days without Samsquatch and the Biker babes; Dean had been getting all pouty, which made Cas even more constipated than normal. Despite my quick wit and lively conversation, Dean was still a grump without his precious Sammy around (I’m not really sure as to why, mind you, but my money was on his truly missing the bodacious duo that always followed nerd-boy around)._

_When I came around for dinner last night, I could see the tension was thick enough to slice with a machete between Dean and Cas. Though they didn’t say anything, it was obvious both were pretty pissed. I was guessing that Dean, in his infinite wisdom and tendency to speak before thinking, had pissed off Cas with some colorful words earlier in the afternoon. Cas had my deepest respect for not having offed Dean the first chance he had._

_I mean, I missed Sam, too. He was quiet and kinda normal, which considering our little friend group, is pretty refreshing. He’s the blonde cousin Marilyn to our Munsters, ya know? And yes, even Meg and Ruby can be cool when they aren’t threatening to stab you._

~*~

“It was one time! Geez, you’re such a little bitch about everything,” Ruby grumped. 

“It was one time four times during one class, Ruby,” Gabriel pointed out. “I think they really need to raise the math score requirements.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t have been so annoying. There’s only so many times I can take the Nyan Cat song during practice.”

“That’s what he was going on about? God, you should have stabbed him and done us all a favor,” Dean muttered, remembering that particular class. 

There had a pool amongst the students to see who snapped first and killed Gabriel, but Sid was the unexpected last-minute upset party. He had put duct tape over Gabriel’s mouth and warned that if he removed the tape before practice was over he would have to clean the entire sparring room with a toothbrush. 

Needless to say, Gabriel toned his pranking ways down a bit after that. 

“Are you done interrupting my story?” Gabriel asked in a huff, arms crossed and face scowling. 

Meg motioned for him to continue.

~*~

_ANYWAY, like I said, I was missing Sam and the girls, too, but that was no excuse to get snappy with my partner. Not that I would. Kali would kill me for trying anything on her. She’s feisty like that. Ah…_

_Ahem, anyway. “Well, aren’t you too full of piss and vinegar today?” I asked Dean and Cas as I sat at our table. Since both greeted me rather lacking in enthusiasm, and were glaring at each other, it was easy to see something was up._

_I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the old married couple. “Sam will come around, Dean! Taking it out on Cas isn’t really nice.”_

_“I already apologized,” Dean muttered. Suddenly, he broke down into long, hiccupping sobs. The tears that flowed forth from his emerald diamonds drenched his half-eaten burger as it sat on the table before him. “I MISS SAM!” he wailed, gnashing his teeth and tearing at his hair—_

~*~

“For the love of God, Gabriel, that didn’t happen!” Dean snapped, interrupting Gabriel’s story. “Stop exaggerating, and stop lying!” he snarled. “I didn’t cry, that’s ridiculous.” 

The others around the table were in various states of laughter, though, and Meg was doubled over, repeating “emerald diamonds….hahaha!” as she let lose a howl of laughter. They were being so loud several students in the tables around them gave them evil glares, but no one noticed or cared. 

Only Dean (who looked horrified and irritated) and Cas (who was trying not the laugh as to not irritate his roommate further) were not laughing at an ear-splitting decibel.

“Oh, come on, Dean! I’m just taking some artistic liberties to make it a little more interesting.”

“Well, knock it off. It’s emotionally scarring for everyone involved.”

Gabriel stuck his tongue out at the older boy, and waited patiently for everyone to become quieter so he could continue his story. 

~*~

_“Ugh, I can’t stand this pity-fest any longer!” I said when I finished my meal, still in silence. I snapped my fingers to get Cas’s and Dean’s attention. “Listen up, chuckle-heads, let’s go do something to get your mind off the family drama.”_

_“What did you have in mind?” Cas asked hesitantly. I could tell he didn’t really trust me, but whatever I had in mind had to be better than dealing with emo-Dean._

_I put a finger to my lips and winked at them. “It’s a secret. You two follow me, and we’ll have ourselves a grand old time!”_

_Before I could let Dean dismiss my brilliant plan I walked away, and Cas (like the good little duckling he is) followed after me. Dean was forced to follow him (grumbling the entire time mind you)._

_A silent walk about 20 minutes long followed until we were standing before the ornate doors of Chuba-Capras._

_“Gabe….” Dean asked, trailing off. He looked at the sign, then at my smiling visage of perfection. “Is this…a strip joint?”_

_I had to shake my head a little remorsefully that it wasn’t. “Not really,” I said. “More song and dance than tits and ass but hey! There’s beautiful women and alcohol.” I said, wiggling my eyebrows, a mischievous twinkle in my eye._

_“Hey, that sounds like my kind of party,” Dean said, his frown flipping upside-down._

~*~

Ruby and Meg scoffed in tandem. “Come off it Dean! You wouldn’t know what to do with a naked woman if she threw herself on top of you and gave you detailed instructions, complete with full-color diagrams,” Ruby huffed.

“Yeah, and what’s your poison, big guy? Root beer?” Meg teased.

Dean flipped them both off.

~*~

_“Well, we’re here now. So, how exactly are you supposed to get in?” Dean asked me._

_Having planned for this contingency a while ago, I pulled out my pristine leather wallet from the back pocket of my jeans. I pulled out the I.D. I had tucked inside, and handed it to Dean._

_The miester’s eyes grew wide at the I.D. card. “Dude, this is a pretty decent fake. 21, huh?” he asked with a smirk, eyeing me up and down._

_“Everyone assumes that, just because I’m short, I’m young,” I said nonchalantly. The line had actually stopped questioning glances before. “I mean, 21 is easier for me to pull off than any older, ya know? So, I will get inside, then find a back door or something and let you guys sneak in. How’s that for a plan?”_

_I was confident in my abilities to get them in without notice, but Dean surprised me when he said “Yeah, no. I’ve got a better idea.”_

_He reached and pulled out his own wallet, and flashed at me his own meticulously crafted fake._

_I couldn’t help but be impressed. “Why exactly do you have one, too?”_

_“I’m a Hunter. Have to be able to get to the witnesses and do the job, not matter what. What about you?”_

_I rolled my eyes. “Lay off the noble knight thing, Dean-o. It’s so I can have all the fun I want! Fun shouldn’t be age restricted, don’t cha think?”_

_Dean grinned, bad mood from earlier gone. “Gotta admit, I like you style.”_

_I turned to Castiel, who was looking a little put-off by our nonchalant breaking of the law. I smirked at that look, and said “Well, you and me are covered, but what about Cassie, here?”_

_Dean looked at Cas, noticing that he hadn’t even reacted to the awful nickname (which was a little irritating, I spend lots of time thinking them up)._

_In fact, Cas looked vaguely terrified, his eyes wide and glued to those ornate doors, while breathing shallow little breathes and looking sick._

_“Dude, you okay?” Dean said, asking the stupidest question he could at that moment. He put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and at the contact he finally dragged his azure eyes from the golden doors. Instead, he glued them to Dean’s, and they stared longfully at each other._

_They were so enraptured with each other that they totally missed a meteorite that landed behind them. A man-eating alien cyborg emerged from the rock like a…rocky…egg, and it started to destroy the city around them, causing massive destruction around their unmoving, staring forms—_

~*~

“GABRIEL!!” Everyone shouted in unison.

He rolled his eyes, but changed the story.

~*~

_Once Castiel’s gaze fell on Dean, he cleared his throat a little. “I…um. Well, since you two seem to have a way inside, I’ll just head back to the apartment and…read a book?” Castiel said, his tone questioning, asking Dean’s permission._

_“Cassie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were too chicken to go in with us,” I said with a taunting tone (I won’t deny it)._

_“Gabriel, there’s no way for me to get in. So, you two have fun.” Castiel tried, oh he tried to sound disappointed, but it came out too relieved for either Dean or I to believe._

_“Where’s your sense of adventure?” I whined, stomping my foot. “Come on! Dean and I will head in and, once the coast is clear, pop a latch on a window for you.”_

_Castiel crossed his arms. “It won’t work, Gabriel.”_

_“Won’t know until we try!” I say forcefully._

_“Shove off!” Castiel cried. “Just let me go home and read my Cosmo and eat a tub of Ben and Jerry’s that I hid in the freezer. Just leave me alone to be alone!”_

~*~

“Gabriel,” Castiel said sternly. “Stop taking liberties with this story! And stop making up stupid things about me.”

Gabriel sighed dramatically. “You’re so boring, Cas! Why must you always be a stick in the mud?”

“You must you always lie and cause grief for everyone around you?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“Yes, well, you’re also irresponsible and untrustworthy. I will take it from here.”

“You’re going to tell us what happened?” Dean and Gabriel asked in incredulous tandem.

“Yes,” Cas said simply, and all eyes fell on him. He hadn’t told the other boys had had happened the previous night, so Dean and Gabe watched him intently. “Now, be quiet and do not  
interrupt.”

~*~

_“It won’t work, Gabriel,” I plainly stated._

_Gabriel rolled his eyes and huffed. “Won’t know until we try!”_

_I glanced over the other two teenage boys, and noticed how eager both of them seemed to be. My stomach was still curling up in knots over the idea of us being caught and Lord Death being told of our extracurricular activities. I couldn’t dishonor my family over a silly bar, but…Dean looked so eager and excited._

_I let out a long sigh, hoping it would help unravel my nervous stomach. “Alright, fine. If you can figure out a plan, I will join you inside this…den of iniquity. However, I’m allowed to leave if it becomes…awkward, correct?”_

_Dean’s lips were drawn tight and it was obvious he was biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh. Which I didn’t really understand, I hadn’t said anything funny._

_Gabriel, being his usual self, was laughing loudly, which was not helping Dean’s predicament at all._

_“What’s so funny?” I questioned._

_“‘Den of iniquity’? Really, Cas? Where did you learn your English from, Shakespeare?”_

_I ignored Dean’s jab at me. Really, Dean could be so immature it was baffling to think he was the eldest of our entire group._

_“Are we doing this or not?” I asked with finality in my voice. I hoped if I was bossy a bit, they’d either start going through with this ridiculous plan or they’d decide I was no fun and let me go home. Or maybe go see Meg. I missed her a lot when Sam was taking his leave of us…_

_“Don’t get your boxers in a bunch,” Gabriel said, eyes gaining a mischievous glint. He elbowed Dean in the side playfully. “Come on, Dean, time to fast forward this show to the good part!”_

~~~~

_I waited in an alley alongside the bar, pacing back and forth in front of a dirty glass window near the back of the establishment. In my mind, I was already up to the count of 1,020—roughly 17 minutes, and there was still no sign of either Gabriel or Dean._

_“Where are you guys?” I muttered under my breath. I paused and loosened my blue tie and even popped the first button on my shirt. My nerves were making me warm and flustered._

_I was beginning to worry that something had happened to Dean. Maybe they had been caught, and were perhaps being detained for breaking the law? Perhaps the police were going to come and arrest them? Worst-case scenarios started playing in my head, but I had to reframe from panicking. Dean wouldn’t let me live it down if I burst inside and blew their cover too soon._

_I kept count, and once I got to 1,500 (roughly 25 minutes), I fixed my gaze on the glass window, and swallowed. “Alright. It’s obvious you idiots got yourselves into trouble. Now, I’ve got to get you out.”_

_Despite my bravado, the window was securely latched, and I will admit I was stymied for several minutes. When I couldn’t force it open, I ended up wandering towards a dumpster bin down the alley, looking for something that could help me open it. I ended up finding a rusted wire coat hanger, and an idea formed in my mind. I straightened it out as I walked back to the window, thinking that I could try and use it to pop the latch inside and let myself in._

_I actually managed to get the wire to slip through a crack under the window ledge, but I couldn’t get it to undone the latch inside. I know I must have been a sight: a teenage boy muttering angrily to himself, trying to jimmy the window open to the basement of a cabaret bar._

_The more I tried to force the wire, the more I leaned on the window. I was so focused on the stupid latch and wanted to make sure Gabriel and Dean weren’t in any sort of deadly situation that I didn’t notice the windowpane shaking violently under my weight._

_“Come on, open already!” I ordered, and hissed in anger when the wire missed the latch again. I was getting so frustrated that I shook it harder than I meant, and suddenly the window opened inside under me. The window slid forward, and I ended up in a crumbled heap on the floor underneath the flapping window._

~*~

Tears were streaming down Dean’s face as he imagined the sight, not even trying to keep the mirth from escaping. “Oh, God Cas, I need to teach you how to break and enter properly! Hahaha!”

Castiel glared at his partner, trying to silent him with the power of his stare, but Dean seemed unaffected. Cas didn’t even bother to try and stifle the laughter from Sam, the girls, or Gabriel. 

Despite the blush spreading over his face, Castiel kept going with the story.

~*~

_I lay on the floor for several long seconds, willing my pounding heart to stop being so loud and throbbing painfully in my chest. The sudden shock must have frozen me after the fact, and when I finally could move I was relieved to find I wasn’t hurt from the fall._

_I carefully and quietly got to my feet, dusting off from myself little bits of wood from the window and dust. I straightened my tie and ran a hand through my hair, getting any cobwebs out of it._

_Though it was dark inside, there was enough light from the streetlight coming into the window for me to realize I was in an unlit bathroom, evidenced by the row of stalls on one side of the room and the several sinks on the other. When I looked back I saw the window was still hanging open. I closed it quietly, not wanting to leave any evidence of my unorthodox entrance if anyone glanced over the room._

_I went to one of the sinks and cleaned up my face and hands. I sighed at my reflection in the mirror, mostly a black silhouette in the low light. “Dean, you have better be in serious trouble,” I grumbled to myself._

_I cracked open the door and looked out to see an empty hallway before me. Having no idea where I was, I walked slowly and quietly down the hallway, listening for any indications of Dean or Gabriel. There was loud singing coming from the opposite direction, but I clearly heard a loud male voice coming from a closed door across the hall from me._

_“Dean? Gabriel?” I called out quietly, but there was no answer. Stepping up the door, I could hear more noise, shuffling of some sort inside, so I silently turned the knob and slipped inside, pulling the door closed behind me, I turned around and saw Dean and Gabriel sitting on the floor of a dressing room, with three extremely annoyed looking show girls guarding them._

~*~

“Oh, God, you were being detained by playboy bunnies? Hahaha!” Sam laughed loudly.

“You dangerous youth, you! Just one more step and you’ll be on the F.B.I.’s Most Wanted!” Ruby chimed in.

“It just sounds like the introduction to a really bad porno,” Meg commented.

“Well, there was a happy ending,” Gabriel promised.

~*~

_I was so shocked by their outfits (lots of lace, sheer fabric, fishnet stockings, high heels, and I swear they had fake bunny ears on their heads in different colors) that I gasped, drawing their attention to me._

_“Another one? What the hell is going on today!” One of the girls, dressed in a black outfit, huffed. “This isn’t a place for babies!” She said in annoyance, crossing her arms across her chest._

_“I’m not a baby,” I said in annoyance, and all three girls’ eyes went wide. I forget my voice is unusually low for someone my size._

_“Hey, Professor!” Gabriel said suddenly. He looked up at the girls and put on a nervous look that almost had me convinced. “You’re here to take us back to school, right? Straight to the big boss Death himself?” he said._

_Dean nodded enthusiastically, and the girl’s all narrowed their eyes at me suspiciously. I unconsciously loosened my tie at their stares, but I caught on quickly to Gabriel’s plan._

_“Um….yes…Gabriel,” I said, trying to sound as authoritative as possible. “I was close-by when Death asked me to…um…come pick you troublemakers up,” I said, trying to keep from stuttering, or blushing._

_The girls looked at each other, then at Dean and Gabriel again. “Well, if he’s here for them, he can have ‘em,” the girl in black said. The other two (one in white and one in red) took a step back, allowing Dean and Gabriel to get to their feet. Dean gave me wink and Gabriel actually managed to look vaguely contrite._

_“Thank you,” I told the girls in question, and I was able to not stutter because I was sincere. I took a few steps forward, grabbed Gabriel and Dean’s shoulders and looked them sternly in the eyes. “You two are getting detention for the rest of the year! I’m not going to bail you out again if you can’t follow the rules! I’m really sorry,” I said to the girls._

_I marched out of the room, straight through the entrance (explaining to the hostess I was a professor picking up the idiots) and we walked right out the front door._

~*~

“Oh my God! Hahaha!” Sam laughed.

Ruby didn’t even bother trying to keep quiet her snorts of near hysterical laughter.

“So, what exactly gave you idiots away?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. “As well as my Dad made mine, Gabriel’s I.D. was still pretty sub-par—“

“Hey! I resent that, asshole!”

“—I’m pretty sure they saw him coming a mile away. And when he got busted he dragged me under the bus with him,” Dean said, and although he scowled he wasn’t really angry. 

Meg let out a disappointed sigh. “Cas, if you keep bailing them out, they’ll never learn,” she said, but then sent Castiel a subtle wink. “I will admit, Professor Castiel has a nice ring, doesn’t it?” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice. 

Castiel’s face beamed in pride for saving Dean and Gabriel’s asses.

“Quick thinking with that whole ‘Professor’ shtick,” Sam complimented Gabriel. 

The trickster took a little bow at the table. “Cas lent himself to the role rather well. The voice, the clothes, the stick-in-the-mud attitude. I figured no one would really question it.”

“And if they didn’t buy it?” Ruby asked curiously.

“Well, I’m pretty sure the red-haired bunny in white liked me,” Dean said casually. “I’d have convinced her to let us go.”

“And I had a smoke bomb, since we all know that plan would have crashed right away take-off,” Gabriel said with a snicker, making Dean throw a glare at him.

“Wow, it sounds we missed all the fun,” Meg said a little sadly. 

Castiel leaned in close to her, and said quietly “Well, they think I’m a Professor, so I’m allowed back in.” Castiel gave her a shy grin. “We could always go some time.”

Meg’s eyebrow quirked up at the suggestion. “Was that a date suggestion, Clarence?”

Castiel looked away, a blush creeping over his cheeks. “It is what it is,” he said vaguely. He preferred to let her interrupt it as she wished.

Meg smiled, and patted his shoulder. “You’re too sweet, Cas. Tell you what, I’ll hold onto that little thought, and when the time is right I’ll let you know. Deal?”

Cas nodded, a little disappointed she hadn’t said yes immediately, but he could be patient. Meg liked to call the shots, so he’d let her do so. They turned their attention back to the table at large; no one else at the table seemed to have been listening to Meg and Castiel’s discussion.

“So, did anything happen after that?” Sam asked. 

Dean shook his head. “Nope, that was last night. And we all are again! Just like old times. We should hang tonight, in celebration of the gang getting back together.”

Sam shook his head and gave Dean an incredulous look. “Dean, you do remember tomorrow is the biggest mid-term exam of the semester, right?”

Dean looked at Sam and shrugged. “No big deal. I’m an expert on killing monsters.”

“Alright there, Einstein, but some of us actually want to pass this class. We’re gonna go study,” Sam said, causing both girls to complain loudly.

“Hey!” Gabriel said, getting everyone’s attention. “How about you guys come to my place to study? Kali doesn’t get out much, and if we all help each other, we’ll all get awesome grades.”

Sam scowled. “No, we’ll all get distracted with each other and our grades will plummet.”

Gabriel laughed. “The friends who fail together flip burgers together!” he said cheerfully.

“I like burgers,” Dean said with a grin. He looked at Cas, and asked his opinion by raising his eyebrows. Cas shook his head slightly, and Dean looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well, we all know you’re going to fail, Dean,” Ruby said. “I think it might be best if we go our separate ways on this one.” 

Gabriel looked disappointed, but he waved them away. “Fine! Go be buzzkills elsewhere.”

“After?” Sam suggested, imaging that after such a brutal test he’d need some laughter.

Gabriel tapped his chin in thought. “Sure thing, Sammy!” he said, disappointment replaced with excitement.

“Alright. We’ve got,” Sam looked at his watch. “14 hours until the mid-term. Good luck, guys!”


	21. The Mid-Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mid-Term Madness ensues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in the chapter everyone! I was wrapped up in my "Geronimo!" and "H on the Gear Shift is for Human" sequels....sorry!  
> Between this site and ff.net this story has almost 2,000 hits!!! OMG THANK YOU FOR READING!!! XD

**9:02 P.M. (11 hours 58 minutes until the Mid-Term)**

“Dean, what are you doing?”

“What’s it look, like, Cas? I can’t concentrate on studying if the room is a wreck!”

“…The room is immaculate. Dean, are you _procrastinating_?”

“What? No! I just need to tidy up a little bit.”

“Between you and me, we actually have one of the cleanest apartments amongst the entire student body. There’s nothing _to_ clean.”

“….I’ll find something to do.”

“You could study.”

“Shut up, Cas.”

~*~

**10:10 P.M. (10 hours 50 minutes until the Mid-Term)**

“Sam! What’s the answer to this question?”

“I’m not going to walk you through the entire test, Meg. You actually have to study on your own.”

“Hey, you’re not studying either!”

“Yes I am! What are you talking about?”

Sam dragged his textbook over the smaller book he’d been reading in order to hide it, but that didn’t escape Meg’s ever watchful eyes.

“That’s not one of our textbooks. Whatcha reading there, Sammy?”

“First of all, don’t call me that. It’s Sam. Secondly, I’m cross-referencing some information from an older tome. So, I _am_ studying.”

Meg let out a loud bark of laughter. “Sam, you’re hiding a _textbook_ under another textbook like it’s a porn magazine!! Does history really make you that hard?” she snickered. 

Sam’s face turned beet red; even the tips of his ears were almost steaming. 

“You’re evolving into your true form, Sam! Can recount facts and figures faster than a speeding bullet, can leap over tall stacks of books in a single bound, it is…THE SUPER NERD!!”

“Ruby, if you’ve got time to tease me, you’ve got time to study,” he chokes out; Sam isn’t sure if he’s choking from embarrassment or laughter. 

“You’re no fun….SuperNerd.”

~*~

**11:15 P.M. (9 hours 45 minutes until the Mid-Term)**

_Crunch._

“Gabriel, what are you doing?”

“I like to snack when I study.” _Crunch._

“Gabriel, eating chips at ear-splitting decibels is not studying.”

“What, am I distracting you?”

“…Not at all.”

“Then I haven’t been trying hard enough.” _CRUNCH! CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH!!!_

“GABRIEL!!! Knock it off! I won’t fail this test because of your antics!” 

“If me eating chips causes you to fail a test, you shouldn’t get so snooty about your I.Q.”

“I won’t waste the time right now to kill you. But, after the test tomorrow, I won’t have such reservations!”

~*~

**1:30 A.M. (7 hours 30 minutes until the Mid-Term)**

“Cas, what are you doing?”

“Studying.”

“No shit. I meant _why_?” 

“I want to pass this test?”

“Cas, you come home after class every day and read those notes over and over. You’ve probably memorized every single thing the Professor had said for the past two months. So why are you studying _now_?”

“Because I do want to know this information, not just remember it long enough for the test, then forget it afterwards. What about you, Dean? How’s your studying going?”

“Um…pretty good. Getting lots of learning done over here.”

Castiel looked back at Dean lounging on the couch, the open textbook in his lap, but it looked to be fairly close to the beginning of the book. He sighed loudly.

“Dean, how many pages have you read in the last hour?”

“Um…13.”

“And what page are you on now?”

“….13.”

“Dean!” 

“What, Cas? I don’t need to study my ass off for this stuff. Hunting monsters is something I don’t need to study, it’s in my bones!”

“You hunt demons, werewolves, and ghosts. Last I knew, Kishin-eggs were not part of your repertoire. If you want to be a good Meister, you have to know the basics.”

“I do know the basics! This history, basic magic, and monsters crap is something I’m good at!”

“Dean, if you do poorly on this test tomorrow, you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at his roommate. “You can’t kick me out of my own room, Cas.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at his partner. “Can’t I?” he challenged.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” When Castiel continued to narrow his eyes at Dean, he threw his hands up. “Yeah, whatever Cas. At least the couch is comfy.”

Castiel turned back in his chair, sighing loudly in exasperation. When he was safely engrossed in his book again, Dean started reading his own book as well, though he still found it boring. 

The couch was pretty comfortable, but he preferred his bed.

~*~

**2:45 A.M. (6 hours and 15 minutes until the Mid-Term)**

When Kali looked over her shoulder from her desk she saw Gabriel lying on his stomach on the couch, his book open and he seemed to actually be studying. 

That was, until she saw the books pages were covered in multi-colored dots. 

That’s when she let out a loud, annoyed yet slightly intrigued sigh. “Gabriel, what are you doing now?”

Gabriel looked up at her innocently. “Studying.”

“What’s all over your book?”

He grinned and picked up one of the dots for her to see what it was. She raised an eyebrow. “Gummy bears?” she asked.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! See, I put a bear on each new paragraph, so I get a reward for the every paragraph I read!” He said proudly, popping the candy in his mouth.

Kali rolled her eyes. “That’s not studying, that’s getting fat.”

“Hey, hey, hey! I work hard for this body,” Gabriel said, motioning towards his short and stocky build. 

She was biting the inside of her lip to keep from laughing so hard she almost bit _through_ it. 

~*~

**3:24 A.M. (5 hours and 36 minutes until the Mid-Term)**

Meg and Ruby’s gentle snores continued from the couch, as they had been for possibly the past hour. Sam, still reading through his books diligently, was torn between waking them up and letting them sleep a while longer. It was kind of nice to not be teased by the girls mercilessly for his “extra-curricular studying” but the strange book he had found in the library was too fascinating to put down. 

It was obviously a book for the older students, not a Level 1 like he was; the fact that it had been wrongfully shelved both delighted and infuriated him. Delight for getting a chance to read this strange tome, pissed because someone couldn’t even be bothered to put it back in the right place. It had been easy to slip the book into his bag without anyone noticing, and though he felt guilty for stealing it, he _had_ to read it. 

The book itself was a history book, but it was a lot more detailed than the basic one the freshmen were reading. This book gave the bloody details of battles, the effects of spells and potions both used by Witches and the DWMA. It was easy to see why this book was off limits to freshmen, someone might get bad ideas in their head.

Sam wasn’t worried about studying for the big test in less than 6 hours. He knew the information backwards and forwards. This book was too intriguing for him to pause in his reading just to study. 

He was skimming it at the moment, trying to learn as much as possible before the test. Not only did he want to see if there was anything he could use for his test, but he also wanted to take the book back to the library as soon as the test was over. Sam didn’t mind the stealing part, but he didn’t want to get caught with it. The longer it was out, the more likely the chance someone might notice the book’s absence, and reading books outside of one’s level was a dangerous offense. Suspension, detentions, prohibition from hunting kishin-eggs…the list was long and Sam wanted nothing to do with those punishments.

He was skimming over a small mention of past Meisters, when a particular passage caught his eye. Sam’s eyes actually paused and reread the passage in its entirety, just to be sure of what he had read:

_Early Meisters sometimes attempted to make both themselves and their Weapons stronger by a variety of means, many of which have been discounted as embellishment and exaggeration. One particular groups of Meisters thought that holy fire was the best way to purify their Weapons. Another group believed in ingesting alchemical elixirs (full of toxic heavy metals) was a way to increase the strength of the Weapon and Meister. Some even went so far as to suggest demon’s blood could be a way to increase the power of demonic weapons, but there was no evidence of such material existing, nor of it having the desired effect. Considering the Meisters that suggested these ideas have long passed away, there is no evidence to confirm or deny any of these methods as being successful or disastrous._

Sam blinked a couple times as the words bounced around in his head. _The early Meisters had some pretty weird ideas_ , he thought to himself. 

When Meg’s snore got particularly loud, Sam found himself turning his chair too look at his two girls. They were asleep and leaning against each other on the couch, looking peaceful in their sleep. 

They were his badass partners, who had grown up with bikers for family instead of doting grandmothers and eccentric uncles. They were tough as nails and downright scary when pissed.

They were also classified as Demon Weapons because it was his raw anger that they used to fuel their magics. 

He looked at them and blinked again. “Huh,” he mumbled to himself.

Dots started to connect in Sam’s mind, but he stopped himself before any sort of image could form. He looked at the clock, and realized that trying to read any more was a waste. He was exhausted (which he realized when he yawned for almost a full minute) and he was starting to think crazy things. 

Time to call it a night. 

“Come on Meg, Ruby. Time for bed,” Sam said loudly. 

The girls jerked awake and he gently herded them to their room. They must have been pretty tired when they didn’t even make a wise-crack at him about his still being up and studying.

Sam changed into his sleeping clothes and collapsed into his bed. _Maybe I’ll see if Dean knows anything about demon’s blood_ , Sam thinks before he passes out.

~*~

**8:38 A.M. (22 minutes until the Mid-Term)**

Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and his stomach dropped when he realized there were two things wrong with his surroundings.

One, there was something warm pressed against him on the couch, and something heavy was on his shoulder, black hair tickling his cheek.

Two, there was too much sunlight streaming through the windows, meaning it was later in the morning. 

Not having the time to worry about two things at once, Dean decided to panic at the second thing, and ignore the first one altogether.

Glancing at his watch, his emerald eyes flew wide open when he realized what time it was with a panicked gasp. 

“Shit!” Dean said and he jumped up, causing Castiel to fall over and crash onto the couch with a startled “Omph!”

Dean turned to see Cas blinking sleepily up at him, looking confused at Dean’s panic. “What—“

“We overslept! We’re gonna be late!” Dean yelped. 

Cas might have just woken up, but he knew Dean well enough to know the hunter wouldn’t be blushing _that_ hard just because they might be late, even to such an important exam. 

Then Cas thought about where he was, and suddenly he felt his cheeks go warm. He’d fallen asleep on Dean’s shoulder. When had _that_ happened? He didn’t even remember sitting on the couch next to his roommate….

“How did we oversleep?!” Dean demanded, breaking Cas’s train of thought. Dean was looking around the room, clearly knowing they needed to get moving, but unsure what he needed to do at that exact second. Too many things at once had shut down his motor functions for several seconds, it seemed.

Cas took a few precious seconds to rub the sleep from his eyes and run a hand through his mess of hair, trying to tame it, but gave up. “You didn’t set an alarm,” Cas said, stating the obvious.

Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation. He raced towards their room, planning to at least change his shirt if nothing else. “What happened to yours, Mr. ‘I’m always up before the crack of dawn thanks to my internal alarm clock’?”

Cas went to the bathroom to splash water on his face, blinking the sleep from his eyes, trying not to panic at anything. “It’s not an exact science, Dean. Don’t try blaming this on me.” 

Dean raced past the bathroom and rounded the corner into the kitchen, muttering to himself the entire time. Cas took the moment to head into their room and change his clothes quickly.

Dean raced back and barreled part way into the room when he saw Castiel facing away from him, completely shirtless. Dean was so startled by the sight of Cas’s naked back that he immediately whipped around, trying not to see anything. As he felt the embarrassed flush warm his cheeks, he took a second to actually glance back as Cas pulled on a clean button-up shirt. 

Castiel was lean and his back was unmarked, unlike Dean, who was starting to get a nice collection of scars from hunting. He had a swimmer’s body, lean with long muscle, where Dean had started to work out more since he wasn’t hunting regularly or working on cars with Bobby anymore. Working in the salvage yard had kept him in shape most of his life.

It was so odd to see Cas in anything but jeans and a shirt, seeing him without it was like seeing him sleeping; it was almost a mystical moment. 

Dean cleared his throat and turned back, mentally berating himself and questioning his odd reaction. _God, it’s not like I haven’t seen a guy’s back before. What the hell is wrong with me?_ he wondered. 

Then he remembered Cas’s body leaning up against his when he woke up, and that’s when he realized why he was acting squirrelly. It was the first time he’d ever been that close to anyone that wasn’t immediate family. The fact that it was his roommate Castiel only made it more awkward.

Like a true Winchester, he filed away the moment in the vault in his mind where he put things when he didn’t have time to deal with them. He had a test to take.

Castiel turned around and just before he finished buttoning his shirt Dean tossed a foil pack at the weapon. Cas caught it with one hand, and looked at it a little disdainfully. 

“Pop-Tarts?” Cas asked, wrinkling his nose. “This does not a good breakfast make.”

“Hey! It says right on the box ‘7 important vitamins and minerals.’ Besides, you’re making us late with your primping, and we gotta get going. So, mobile breakfast it is.” Dean said a little too cheerfully; he was trying too hard to play off the accidental roommate cuddling he’d woken up to, and Castiel realized it. 

Cas rolled his eyes at Dean’s teasing, but decided to follow Dean’s lead and pretend it didn’t happen either. He needed to focus on this test, and his jumbled ideas and emotions he had towards his roommate weren’t helping matters.

He obediently followed Dean out the door as they ran towards their class, jogging and eating the Pop-Tarts along the way. They got the classroom just in time. As the bell struck 9:00 A.M., Dean looked to see all of his friends were also in the classroom. Kali looked tired but determined; Gabriel seemed more bored than anything. Bookworm was looking carefully contemplative, and both the girls looked annoyed. 

_Hopefully this test is a piece of cake_ , Dean thought to himself, feeling a little nervous. Pop quizzes shouted at him from his Dad or Mom about monster lore during a hunt was one thing, a standardized paper and pencil test was a new experience altogether. 

It was slightly more terrifying. 

~*~

The difficulty of the test seemed to be determined by who was commenting on it. 

Sam, on one hand, thought it actually wasn’t that big of a deal, even easy. 

Gabriel, on the other hand, seemed to believe that trying to disarm a bomb strapped to a obese man as he zoomed around a football stadium on a jetpack would’ve been easier. 

They finished the test and had to go about the rest of their classes like normal as they waited for the test to be graded. The results of the test would be posted on the bulletin board outside of the classroom at 7 P.M. Each of the students were a little distracted in the rest of their classes, all wondering how well they did or didn’t do. 

Even Dean was a little nervous about his grade. Not for himself, really; he believed hunting monsters and good grade-point averages had nothing to do with each other. Unfortunately, his parents didn’t think so, and Dean didn’t want to be on the receiving end of another “School is important, being smart is important yadda yadda yadda” speech. He liked to think he was smart enough thanks to Bobby and Ellen raising him up.

Still, he was waiting with just as much anticipation as everyone else as they crowded around the bulletin board, the names and ranking of the students on a long list of paper. People bemoaned and cheered as they read their name and wandered off. Some high-fived friends, and one girl looked like she was about to cry, and this made them all a little nervous. The seven friends walked up to the board together though, and were in for a surprise.

“Sam’s first in the class!” Ruby read excitedly. 

“Really?” he asked in surprise, eyes wide but grinning madly. 

Dean ruffled his younger cousin’s hair. “Way to go, Bookworm!”

“Knock it off, Dean,” Sam bemoaned as he tried to undo the damage Dean did to his hair.

“Castiel is second!” Meg said aloud. She gave him a playful wink. “Knew you had it in you.”

“Of course he’s second, he’s _Cas_ ,” Dean said with pride. Castiel tried not to blush at the attention.

Ruby’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Oh, come on!” She whined, whipping around and shooting an accusing glare at Dean. “You’re _third_?!”

Dean face split into a wide grin, both in pride and relief. “Not as dumb as you thought I was, huh?”

“But…third?! I actually studied for this exam, and you just breezed through it!” 

Sam’s eyebrows arched up. “Since when is sleeping considered studying?”

Ruby shot him a murderous glare. “Shut up, Sam!”

Meg crossed her arms and stood in Dean’s way. “Alright, I demand to know how you cheated to get that grade. I want to use it on the next one.” 

Dean pointed to himself. “Hello, Hunter. How to gank monsters is the biggest part of the job.” 

Meg glared at him, but made a disgusted noise. “You’re despicable.” 

“A despicable _genius_ ,” Dean gloated, and Meg smacked his arm. “Ow,” he moaned, but kept grinning.

“I mean, I get Sam, he reads all the time, but you?” Ruby shook her head, still unbelieving. 

Dean threw a friendly arm around Sam’s shoulders, a trick considering he was a few inches taller. “What can I say? Genius runs in the family,” he said cheerfully. 

There was a few seconds of silence, and Dean felt Sam tense next to him. Mentally, Dean berated himself. _You idiot! You said it, why? Now he’s gonna run off again!_

Before Dean could open his mouth to apologize, or say something to cover up his stupidity, Sam turned to him and actually smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess it’s a Winchester thing,” he said slowly. 

Dean’s face changed from chagrin to surprise to joy in only a span of seconds, but Sam saw it all. He was still getting used to the idea, of having family outside of John; he sometimes became terrified that Dean would take his friends and leave, but Gabriel’s words grounded him. 

Speaking of Gabriel….

Kali let out a angry growl, and she glared at Dean so ferociously the boy knew that, if looks could kill, he would have been a puddle of ooze on the ground. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Gabriel jumped in. “She’s one point behind you, fourth place.”

“One point!” Kali bemoaned. “How is that even possible?!”

“Like I said, via awesome Winchester Hunting genes,” Dean said. 

Kali was still looking furious, but she didn’t say another word as Ruby and Meg found themselves comfortably in the middle of the grades. Ruby was just a few points higher than her sister, and was having a blast dangling that in her older sister’s face.

“Haha, I’m smarter than you!” Ruby teased.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Are not. I just don’t care as much about that magic crap like you do. Give me a good brawl any day.”

“Hey, that magic crap is interesting. I can’t help that you have to be smart in order to understand it!

“Ruby, I will stomp you into paste if you don’t knock it off!”

Before Ruby and Meg could get in a fight (something Dean was secretly interested in seeing—that’d be one hell of a show), Kali stomped off, leaving the group behind. Gabriel looked back at his friends, shouted a hurried good-bye, and followed Kali through the maze of hallways that made up the school. She seemed to be making her way back to their room, but he kept a few steps behind her because she looked pissed enough to strangle him.

Gabriel, however, didn’t like seeing Kali upset. Mostly because it was downright terrifying. “Kali, don’t be mad. Fourth was still an A, I think. You’re still considered one of the top students in the class,” he said, trying to placate her.

Kali whipped around at glared at Gabriel, stopping him in the empty hallway. “As annoyed as I am with Dean Winchester beating me on this test, that’s not what I’m pissed about. I’m mad at you, Gabriel. What _happened_?” she snapped. 

“Happened?” Gabriel asked innocently. 

Kali stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the boy. “Yes, Gabriel. You _failed_ that test. The lowest grade in the class. I want to know why, right now.”

Gabriel sighed. “Kali, sometimes people don’t do well on tests. If they don’t know the information, they sometimes get bad scores.”

“Bullshit, Gabriel,” Kali said, throwing the boy for a loop. It was the first time he’d heard her swear like that. “You failed that test on _purpose_.”

“Wha—no! I just didn’t—“

“Gabriel, you do realize that your grades affect me, too, right? I’ll be the laughingstock of the school when everyone sees how poorly you did. They’ll think you’re an idiot and bemoan my having you for my partner! This could completely de-rail early graduation, everything I’ve been working towards!”

Kali paused in her rant to see his partner not even look at her. He was staring at his shoes, scuffing the floor underneath them. She put her hands on her hips and stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

Gabriel glanced at her, and a little smile tugged at his lips. “You always did that when you’re pissed,” he said to himself. 

Kali raised an eyebrow. “‘Did’?” she asked.

Gabriel let out a loud, aggravated sigh. “Did, do, whatever! I wasn’t accepted into this school for my grammar or test-taking abilities. So I failed the test, big deal. Sorry you got saddled with a stupid partner.”

“You’re not stupid!” she snapped in irritation, catching him off guard. “Your study skills leave something to be desired, but you’re not stupid. You’re too clever and cunning to be called stupid.”

“Was that a compliment?” Gabriel asked incredulously, making her glare at him as she threw her hands up.

“Gabriel, we _both_ know you helped me study last night. Some of the exact same things you explained to me, concisely and without pause, were the same things you failed on that test. You’re too smart to have failed such a simple test so spectacularly!”

“Look, I’m sorry. You just said it, I have no study skills. This proves it. I appreciate the confidence you have in my cunning cleverness, but I just can’t do tests. Sorry,” Gabriel said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking upset. “I just get nervous, Kali.”

She leaned close to him, watching him carefully. “Even if you got nervous, you should have gotten _something_ right. A test of 0.00% on a mostly multiple choice test is a mathematic impossibility unless you were _trying_ to fail it.”

Gabriel blinked a couple times in surprise, and suddenly he couldn’t even look at his partner. His defensive demeanor changed into a mask of miserable nervousness, and Kali actually thought he was about to cry. He only glanced at her briefly, and she could still see how lost he looked. 

“Kali, I just…I can’t stand out, okay? I’ve gotta stay under the radar,” he said quietly, whispered really. She had to lean forward just to hear him say the words. 

She looked him over, and saw how he was trying desperately to not look at her, and she sighed. “So, you thought failing the test was the best way to go about that? Why would you need to do that?” 

“I can’t tell you, Kali. Just, please, trust me. I _have_ to stay under the radar,” Gabriel said, pleaded actually. “Please, just drop it, Kali,” he begged. He looked so hopeless. She could tell this wasn’t just another prank; he really was in some sort of trouble.

She wanted to keep ranting, to get him to understand the problems this purposeful failure would mean for her, for her future, but when she spoke she said something that even caught herself off guard.

“Next time make a C.”

Gabriel looked up at her, tilting his head to side in a questioning manner. “What?”

“Next time make a C. Then a B. And you keep making Bs until we graduate. Bs show you’re smart, but not too smart. Still average. Understand?” she asked.

Gabriel blinked at his partner a couple times, completely floored by her. “How about Cs? Those are average, right?” He asked.

Kali smirked, crossing her arms over her chest in smug satisfaction. “So, you _did_ choose to fail that test,” she said, and Gabriel groaned when he realized she’d tricked him. 

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. 

“I knew you were smarter than that. Probably even smarter than Sam Winchester, perhaps?”

Gabriel held up his hands. “Don’t compare me to Bookworm. He’s a supernerd. He practically _lives_ in those textbooks.”

“And you can’t tell me why this charade was necessary?” Kali pressed again.

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just…I panicked. I need to stay out of the limelight, you know? I figured failing the test wouldn’t draw attention.”

“Normally, it wouldn’t. But you went to the extreme end of the grading scale, and that’s just as telling as if you’d gotten a 100.”

“So…Cs are okay?” Gabriel reiterated, sounding a little hopeful.

Kali rolled her eyes. “If you must throw a couple Cs in there, fine. The majority of your grades have to be Bs, though. Deal?”

Gabriel looked at the hand she extended towards him. He let a little grin tug up the corners of his lips. “Deal,” he said, and they shook hands. 

Gabriel held onto her hand a few seconds longer than necessary, and he chuckled awkwardly when he realized it. He dropped her hand like it was on fire, and Kali sighed. 

“Gabriel, you’re not allowed to get a crush on me,” she commanded. 

Gabriel’s golden eyes flashed in shock. “Get a _what_?!” he said, jaw hanging open slightly.

Kali’s laughter was spontaneous and explosive. Seemed like having Gabriel for a partner meant some of his mischievous nature was rubbing off on her. 

Gabriel cleared his throat, quieting her laughter. “Why are you helping me on this? And not dragging me through a game of 20 Questions?”

Kali straightened up and smiled at him. It was a small smile, it barely upturned the corners of her lips, but it was still there. “As much of a fool as you may act, and as much I want to kill you sometimes, you’re still my partner. Partners help each other. Even if whatever you’re up too makes no sense to a normal person.”

“Aw, Kali, keep talking like that and I might actually start to think you actually _like_ me.”

Kali rolled her eyes. “Keep it up, Gabriel, and I might change my mind.”


	22. 5th Graders and Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call home make Dean confront some uncomfortable thoughts, and unusual monster activity puts the hunter on guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking so long! I got wrapped up in other projects and my boss decided to give me 40+ hour weeks. -_-

Chapter 22

The weeks following the mid-term became routine, despite the fact that Dean was attending a school for monster-hunting. He went to classes, hunted kishin-eggs, hung out with Sam and the rest of his friends. Life was good and, in some ways, easy. Things were pretty simple.

Figured it wouldn’t stay that way for long. 

The old Chevelle pulled up to their apartment with a roar as it was thrown into park. Inside Dean and Castiel sighed in tandem, worn out from the fight but not terribly injured. A few deep bruises were nothing in comparison to some hunts. Both were quick to learn from past mistakes, and Dean had learned to be slightly more careful in hand-to-hand combats with supernatural monsters. 

Dean gave Cas a smug smirk. “What’s the count?”

“Thirteen souls so far,” Castiel said slowly, a small grin on his face. 

Dean held out a closed fist towards Castiel, and though he gave Dean an annoyed look he did fist-bump the young meister. “Who says 13 is an unlucky number now? Haha! That’s only a couple ahead of Sammy, and Kali’s right on his heels,” Dean said, eyes closed in thought. He flashed another smug smirk at his partner. “We can’t let bookworm or hothead get past us!” 

“This isn’t a competition,” Castiel said with a chuckle. 

“Of course it is! They just can’t say that officially. Doesn’t matter, we’ve got the edge in these kishin battles over everyone else. So, let’s just keep it that way.” 

Castiel nodded once and started climbing out of the car. He turned back to see Dean had not moved from the driver’s seat, and he tilted his head in a questioning look.  
Dean held up his cell phone, and gave a little (slightly sheepish) grin. “Gotta make a call. I’ll be up in a bit.” 

Castiel nodded once and made his way to their apartment, deciding to take a nice warm shower now that he would not have to fight Dean for it for once. Dean had made it a habit to call home about once a week, though it had been a few weeks since his last call home.

Though he claimed it was to brag about his general “awesomeness,” Castiel believed the steadfast and confident hunter was homesick. He often caught his meister looking at his family photo with faraway eyes when he thought no one was looking. So, Castiel always made himself scarce when Dean grabbed his cell phone, even if Dean didn’t excuse himself outright. Sometimes a jealous pang would make the weapon’s heart ache, but he thought he did rather well at hiding it. 

~*~

Once Castiel disappeared into the building, Dean reclined his seat to get comfortable. He was tired, and he was sore from the exertion of fighting the kishin-egg. However, though he wanted nothing more than a shower, he didn’t want to wait any longer. 

The phone rang a few times, and he had to hold the phone away from his ear when a high-pitched child yelled “DEEEEAAAAANNNNN!!!!!” into the receiver. 

“Hey Baby-Girl!” Dean said with a grin. He heard an adorable huff over the phone, and could imagine his little sister scowling into the phone, curly blonde hair framing her elfin face. “It’s Jo, Dean!” she said, stomping her foot in emphasis.

“Well, I was pretty sure you weren’t Dad….” Dean said, enjoying screwing with his younger sister.

“Stop being a butt,” she said with a pout. “How is everything?”

“It’s fine. I’ve got another couple monsters!” Dean said proudly. 

“Wow,” Jo said in awe. “Dean, guess what? Uncle Rufus gave me a present! It’s a butterfly knife, but I haven’t told Mom or Dad about it yet. Keep it secret, okay?”

“Promise,” Dean said, crossing his heart even though she couldn’t see it. “So, you’re starting school next week?”

“Yep!” Jo said with barely contained excitement. He grinned. 

“Jo, now, you do know the rule for bringing that knife to school, right?” Dean asked in a vaguely serious tone. Jo let out a deflated huff. 

“Yeah, I know. I can’t bring it to school.” 

“No, you can bring it, just don’t let anyone _catch_ you with it,” Dean said. “Don’t go showing it off to your friends. You know why he gave it to you?”

“It’s silver-plated and if any shifter or werewolf tries to attack me, I can poke his eye out!” she said with energetic pride. 

“That’s my girl,” Dean said. They ended up talking for several more minutes about Jo’s return to school. She was just about to start the fifth grade and was exceptionally excited to see her old friends. Poor girl hadn’t gone out much during the summer—it wasn’t like she had many friends nearby. 

The conversation drifted to Dean’s work at the DWMA, and he recounted several kishin fights (slightly exaggerated into world-ending apocalypses he only barely won). He never mentioned Sam, though. He was waiting to surprise everyone by dragging Sam home over one of the upcoming holidays. Wouldn’t that be a Christmas miracle! 

“How’s Mom and Dad?” Dean asked, interrupting yet another tangent of Jo’s about how much better the school library than their home one because it had books other than occult reference materials.

“Mom’s talking to Dad and Uncle Rufus in the study right now,” she said, and he could imagine her sitting on the bar stool next to the wall of phones in the kitchen. She was probably kicking her legs through the air and staring at the closed sliding doors that separated the kitchen from Dad’s study. 

“Uncle Rufus is there?”

“Yeah, he and Dad just got back from a long weekend,” Jo said casually. 

That set off alarms in Dean’s head. Dad went hunting with Rufus? Dad hadn’t been out on a hunt in a while. Ever since Dean had started hunting with Rufus, actually. 

“Do you know what they were after, Jo?”

“Nope! Dad just said he had to ‘pull Uncle Rufus outta the fire, big idjit,’” she said, doing a reasonable impression of Bobby’s gruff drawl. It made Dean laugh. 

“Oh, the doors just opened! Wanna talk to Mom or Dad?” Jo asked. 

“Dad, if he looks up for it,” Dean said. 

He heard Jo call for Bobby, and waited a few seconds for his father’s gruff voice to come on the line. “Whatcha doin’ boy?” Bobby sounded a little tired, just like he was feeling.

“Just finished up another kishin-egg hunt, actually. And this time no one spilled any blood.” 

A scoff. “Well, thank God for small favors.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dean mumbled. 

“I’m not. I’m actually glad you’re still alive and kicking. Whatcha need?” Bobby asked bluntly. 

Dean sighed a little. Sometimes he kinda wished he Dad, or his Mom for that matter, weren’t so blunt all the time. He kind of wished he could shoot the breeze just to shoot it. Despite his new friends and school keeping his busy, he missed being home, with Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and Baby, even Rufus. Sometimes it would have been nice to just hear from the family without needing something in return.

“I was just checking in with Jo,” Dean said. “Wow, 5th grade already, huh?”

“Time does fly,” Bobby said, his tone softening just a touch. 

“Actually, Jo mentioned you and Rufus were on a hunt. What’s that about?”

“Just ‘cause you’re off to fancy meister school doesn’t mean the monsters stop eatin’ folks,” Bobby said. Dean heard the heavy thud of the sliding doors closed; Bobby was in his study once again, alone more than likely. 

“Dad, do you need my help? I’m pretty sure I can drive back for a few days—“

“We’ve got everything under control, Dean,” Bobby said. “You just worry about yourself.” 

“Dad, I’m fine here,” Dean said, his voice testy. “Safest place in the world, the Grim Reaper lives here! Now, what happened to make you have to save Rufus’s bacon?”

Bobby was silent for several seconds—whether it was because he was debating on what to tell Dean, or it’s because he was downing a shot of whiskey Dean wasn’t entirely sure. 

“Dad, what’s—“

“Demons,” Bobby said simply. 

Dean’s eyes opened wide. “Demons. As in _plural_?”

“Muchas plural,” his dad said. “Rufus figured he had a possession on his hands, went to a small town outside of Omaha to take care of it.” Another heavy pause.

“And?”

“And…demons! I was the closest hunter to Rufus that could get there in time.”

“And, you’re sure? I mean, demons are _rare_ ,” Dean said. “Almost kishin-egg rare.”

“Most hunters get one, maybe two demon-possessions a year,” Bobby agreed. 

“So…how many?” Dean asked quietly. 

“…the whole town.” Now Dean was sure Bobby was knocking back another shot, he could hear the heavy shotglass thud on the wooden desk.

“A whole town?! Jesus, Dad, what the hell did you do?!” Dean demanded. “You sure you’re okay, Rufus too?”

“We’re fine boy, we managed it just fine. Never saw a sea of black-eyes before, and I now know I never want to see it again,” Bobby said quietly. “Actually…we had some help.”

“Help? Who was the help?”

An annoyed sigh came from Bobby. “…Henrikson.”

Dean coughed. “You called Agent Henrikson?”

“We didn’t have much choice in the matter. Your mother actually went and invited him to Thanksgiving as a ‘thank you for saving my idiot husband’ gesture.”

“Hunters friends with an F.B.I. agent…” Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.

“He’s not a friend, he’s a contact. I wouldn’t invite him to watch the game,” Bobby said with a huff. 

“How did he get there so fast?” Dean asked. 

“He was already in the next town over doing some F.B.I. stuff when he got my call.”

“Dad, how did you…?”

“Used ourselves as bait and got everyone into the town center. Then Rufus and I rigged my tape recorder to the tornado warning speaker system. Henrikson helped hold off the crowd long enough for us to rig the speakers. Everything with a five mile radius heard that exorcism,” Bobby said. “I’m just thankful that this was some Podunk town out in rural country. It if had been bigger, we wouldn’t be alive right now. Luckily the town was less than a hundred people.”

“A hundred demons…” Dean said. “Dad, what in the _world_ is going on?”

“Wish I knew, Dean. Wish I knew.”

Several seconds of silence passed as Dean tried to figure out what to say. “You know, I might be able to get away this weekend if you need another pair of hands,” Dean offered. 

“Dean, we’ve got this. Rufus and I aren’t old enough to need the Calvary quite yet. Your job is to stay at school and do what you gotta do. ” 

“But you called Henrikson!”

“He already owed us a favor,” Bobby said simply. 

Dean couldn’t help the aggravated sigh that escaped him. In his mind, his family needed his help, more than Sam or even Castiel. He was frustrated—Bobby wouldn’t let him home to help, and honestly, the DWMA was starting to become boring. 

Most of the fun of being a hunter was the mystery. Find the cases online or in the newspaper, talk to witnesses, find clues. Put everything together, research the monster, and kill it. Though there was a lot of leg work involved, and plenty of nightmare fuel to trudge through, it was interesting, sometimes fun (especially the last part) and someone’s life was saved because of it. 

At the DWMA, however, there was simply the Board in the main hallway. Assignments were posted which people grabbed (according to their skill level and personal interest), but it was always the same. Always a kishin-egg with a bug up its ass. There was no real mystery, no real mental workout. The kishin-eggs were a lot tougher than most monsters, and that was the only real plus about the work. 

Dean never thought he’d miss staying up all night skimming dust-filled books for lore with Bobby. He never thought he’d miss Ellen ranting at him about proper gun maintenance and chores. 

He never thought he’d miss Rufus’ terrible Jewish jokes that he’d tell while Dean was at target practice. (The trick was to not laugh and miss the target or Rufus would make him run laps, but the jokes were so bad.) He never thought he’d miss his annoying baby sister who liked to make him play tea party (which she herself hated to do) just because she knew it irritated him.

Dean missed home. It was becoming a steady ache in his heart, and he couldn’t tell his father because Bobby would tell him to ‘suck it up.” Now that there was a legitimate reason to check up on them, he was barred from doing so. It was enough to want to drive a teenager to drink.

~*~

Dean’s stormy expression when he returned to the apartment was wholly unexpected. Castiel was used to Dean coming back from his calls home with a grin and a funny story about what his family was up too. It always made Castiel wish he could share the same stories, but he hadn’t called home since arriving at the DWMA months ago. 

He honestly didn’t want to. Sure, he missed his brothers and sisters, like Urial and Anna, but Raphael was a taskmaster that Castiel didn’t want to have to answer to yet. 

“Dean, everything alright?” Cas asked from the couch when Dean stomped inside. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Dean said with a little more force than necessary. It was obvious something was bothering him, but Castiel had learned patience was the trick. Waiting until Dean wasn’t so irritated before broaching the subject meant for slightly less chance at arguments. Slightly.

Dean took off his jacket and boots and proceeded into the kitchen where he slammed cabinet doors more forcefully than necessary while looking for something. Castiel winced at the loud noises but didn’t say a word. One day he’d remind his partner that they were only living here temporarily and tearing things up wouldn’t be anyone any good. 

_Slam!_ Today was not going to be that day. 

The cabinet slamming tapered off and Dean emerged a while later with a sandwich and chips and proceeded to plop onto the couch next to Cas. The hunter tore into the sandwich with much gusto, and he cast a sidelong glance at his weapon. 

“Cas, what’re ou earin’?” Dean said around a mouthful of bread, meat, and cheese. 

Castiel looked down at himself in confusion. “A shirt and jeans?”

Dean swallowed. “Dude, we just finished a hunt. You took a shower and those are you relaxing clothes?”

A shrug from the weapon. “This was what I like to wear.”

“Yeah, well you know what? Not today.” With the cryptic message, Dean put his plate on the table and stomped off into the bedroom. 

Castiel was still confused about everything. Dean was mad…at his clothing choices? He wore button-down shirts and jeans every day since they’d met and Dean had never shown any care about it before. 

Dean emerged with a faded t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Put these on, you’ll feel a ton better,” Dean said, tossing the ball of clothing to his roommate. 

Castiel caught the clothes and looked at them curiously. “Why do you suddenly care about what I wear?”

“You just look so…I don’t know… _stuffy_ when you dress like that all the time. Like you don’t allow yourself any downtime.” 

“I’m smaller than you, these clothes won’t fit.” 

“I grabbed the smallest stuff I had. And they’re supposed to be a bit baggy, that’s why they’re lazy clothes.” 

Castiel looked at the clothes in his hands curiously, then back at Dean with an arched eyebrow. 

Sighing with aggravation, Dean said “Fine, whatever, give ‘em back,” as he attempted to snatch the clothes back. Castiel, being a little quicker than Dean, ducked the outstretched arm and hopped off the couch out of Dean’s reach. 

“How about this. I will change into these clothes if you tell me what’s bothering you,” Castiel offered. 

Dean paused and scowled. “Fine,” he said after a minute of sullen thought. 

With that Castiel returned to their room and several minutes later emerged from the bedroom with a baggy, threadbare t-shirt proclaiming “Zeppelin Rules” and baggy sweatpants. He felt so strange in the clothing, almost exposed the way they didn’t constrict his movements as much as the jeans (though broken in they were) or his shirts did. It did feel nice to move freely. 

It also didn’t help that the clothes were clean and soft, and smelled like Dean. Dean, who smelled like leather and gun oil (even though he hadn’t used a gun in months); Castiel liked the smell and to be surrounded by it and a soft embrace…it was pretty relaxing. 

He curled up back in his spot on the couch, and found that the sweats allowed him to tuck his legs under himself more comfortably than jeans every would’ve allowed. Maybe Dean was onto something….

Dean found himself having a tough time remembering why he was grumpy when Castiel came back out in _his_ t-shirt and sweats. They hung off his slim frame where they hugged Dean’s taller and more muscular one. When he curled up like a cat next to him, dark brown hair spiky from the recent shower and those bright blue eyes focused on him with laser intensity, Dean was having a hard time remembering to do anything but not stare back. 

“Dean?” Castiel asked, and Dean visibly startled. He looked away, cheeks reddening slightly. 

“Right, so, uh….my little sister,” he said stupidly, pretending that little moment hadn’t happened. 

“Is she okay?” Cas asked in concern. 

“What? Oh, no, she’s great! Next week she starts 5th grade. She’s uh, really excited about it.” 

Castiel tilted his head in curiosity. “She goes to school?”

“Yeah?”

“But…didn’t you say that your parents homeschooled you themselves? How come they aren’t homeschooling Jo as well?” 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck slowly, the move he made when he was unsure what to do or was uncomfortable about what was happening. He glanced at Cas once and let his eyes shift to the other side of the apartment, mentally arguing with himself about something. Castiel waited. 

“So, uh, they weren’t always hunters,” Dean started with some hesitancy. He’d never talked about his past, but he felt Cas wouldn’t go blabbing around to anyone about it. It was a pretty big piece of himself that he was about to share; just one glance at those piercing eyes, slightly softened in concern and curiosity, made Dean feel suddenly more at ease. “Mom and Dad, I mean. 

“This happened when I was really little, three or four, I can’t quite remember which. A monster called a Rakshasa broke into our house and tried to kill me and my parents. Rufus was actually the hunter who was tracking it—he killed it and saved our lives. After that Mom and Dad pressed him into teaching them everything he knew, and they taught me. I think the idea was to protect me, but I ended up liking hunting. When I got old enough and asked Rufus for him to start teaching me to be a proper hunter, it wasn’t like they could deny me. I was basically trained ever since the attack how to hunt, track, and kill monsters.”

Castiel nodded once but did not interrupt, so Dean continued. The words flowed easily now; once there was a crack in the dam, there was nothing to stop the water. 

“Jo was different. Mom saw what being a hunter was like, and she knew she couldn’t get me off that path, so she tried to divert Jo. Jo only started normal school a couple years ago; she was homeschooled for several years like I was. Mom’s trying to give Jo a chance at a normal life, but Dad and I fight with her constantly about it. 

If Jo got hurt or killed because she didn’t know how to protect herself from some monster, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself,” Dean finished quietly. 

Castiel was quiet for a moment as he processed everything Dean said. “Dean, are you jealous of your sister?” he asked bluntly. 

Dean blinked once and looked away, like he was so shocked he wasn’t sure how to react. “What? No! I’m a Hunter and a Meister. Normal school would bore me to _death_ ,” Dean said, his false bravado painfully see-through. “I wouldn’t know what to do in a classroom if my life depended on it!” 

Castiel’s eyebrow arched. “Dean, you sit in a classroom _every day_ and your life _does_ depend on it. You’re also one of the top ranking students in said class.” 

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean said, but there was a little, prideful smirk on his face. “I guess…maybe I am? Just a little. She gets the chance to have a normal (slightly less-weird) life and I…”

“You didn’t get a choice in the matter,” Castiel finished and Dean nodded. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much. If your sister is anything like you, she’ll take the adventure and the heartbreak of a hunter over anything normal,” Castiel said. 

Dean ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, that’s kinda the problem. As much gloss as I put over it, being a hunter sucks most of the time. The reason I have a job is because people are killed by monsters. And bad things happen to both strangers and friends. I don’t want that for Jo,” Dean finished. 

Castiel placed a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder, making the hunter’s green eyes lock onto Castiel’s. “You cannot live her life for her, Dean. If you show her both sides of the world, she’ll be smarter, better prepared for anything, and make her choice accordingly. If she chooses to follow your path, then she will be able to save lives just like we do.” 

A grateful nod from Dean made Castiel grin slightly. “Yeah…that’s a good way to look at it. You know you’re too wise for your ripe old age of 16, you know that?”

A smile spread across Cas’s face that lit up his blue eyes. “Yes, I’ve been told that before.” 

Dean contemplated telling Cas about Bobby’s escapade with the demons, but he decided to tuck that little bit of information away. _A really weird fluke isn’t anything to be concerned about_ , he told himself. Bobby and Rufus were fine and the town was saved. Just another fun-filled day in the life of a hunter. 

Besides, that was enough chick-flick moments for one day.


	23. Movie Night!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie Night!....or, Date Night?

“Gabriel, this movie is _terrible_!”

Golden eyes cast a sidelong glance at the slightly taller boy and a smirk curled up his lips. “Duh, Sammy! I believe me text was, and I quote ‘Hey S, wanna come to my place and watch terrible movies while the girls are out?’”

Sam rolled his eyes just as another character on screen got chomped. “Yeah, but, this is just god-awful.” 

“Don’t be dissing my favorite B-movie! I feel a special connection with the protagonist.”

Sam’s eyebrow perked up. “This movie is definitely C+ material, at best. And the dude’s a selfish, egotistical asshole.”

“See the resemblance? And you have to give them credit for the puns!”

“God I hated puns before but this is---there are no words for this.”

A few moments of silence reigned as Gabriel happily munched on Skittles, popping the colorful candies into his mouth with gusto as his eyes were glued to the giant flat-screen T.V. in his and Kali’s living room. Despite seemingly knowing the movie terrible dialogue by heart, the weapon still seemed enraptured by it. 

Sam was on the other end of the couch, though there was only a foot of space between them. His hazel eyes kept wandering around the apartment since he was trying to keep his brain cells from rotting from the stupid corniness of the film. It was hard to believe this was a dorm room—colorful rugs covered up the tile floor and silken drapes hung off the walls in vibrant reds, golds, yellows, a few blues and greens thrown in for fun. The furniture was high end and beautiful and everything was neat and organized. He felt like he was sitting in a room fit only for royalty, the penthouse suite of the most expensive hotel ever.

He realized how drab and barren his own dorm was, considering he lived with two girls, and felt suddenly embarrassed about the fact. _I’m so glad Gabe’s never really seen the inside of my palace—he’d probably think it was a dump!_ Sam thought to himself. Sam kept the place as neat and tidy as possible (a feat considering his weapons were raised amongst bikers) but there weren’t any real pictures or furniture except what was provided. Sam looked at Gabriel again and realized that, to someone used to such luxury, his place was pitiable. 

After that thought, he had to wonder why he suddenly cared what the weapon thought. It wasn’t like he and Gabriel hung out enough to warrant Sam wanting Gabe’s approval, especially over something like dorm décor. In fact, this was the first time they’d hung out alone together since meeting each other. Normally Dean or Castiel or the girls were around, and Sam attributed his vague feelings of nervousness to that. Well, at least he and Gabriel were getting along so far. 

He was thrown off his contemplative pity train for a moment when a particular bit of dialogue caught his ear and he swiveled back to the T.V.

“Are they ripping off this scene _straight_ from Jaws?” Sam asked with some incredulity. 

“Shamelessly so,” Gabriel said with flair. 

“What do you think they’re up to?” Sam asked. 

“Well, since the sharks keep killing incredibly well-endowed coeds, they’re trying to—“

“Not the movie! The girls!” Sam corrected.  
“That, my dearest Sam-a-lam, is a true mystery of the universe,” Gabriel said around a mouthful of candy. “What in the world could Meg, Ruby, and Kali be doing on a girl’s night out?”

“I think the question is, what couldn’t they do?”

“My bet is that your terrible influences for weapons are out teaching my already scary mister how to best the best bar brawler in the city,” Gabriel said in a conspirator’s whisper. 

Sam laughed. “No way! If that’s what they’re up too, I’d have heard about it. Meg and Ruby would’ve been bragging all week. Maybe the three of them have an undying love of miniature golf and decided to putt the night away in secret.” 

Gabriel almost fell off the couch, he laughing so hard. Not only was the mental image of the three most badass girls at the school arguing over trick shots and sand traps hilarious, it was Sam’s deadpan delivery that made the moment magical. 

Sam didn’t even bother trying not to laugh, Gabriel’s laughter was infectious and soon both of them were doubled over and wheezing, trying to get their breath back. Every time one managed to calm down the other would start to giggle, and the cycle would repeat itself. The movie continued, forgotten in the background, until the giggles had played themselves out several minutes later. 

“Help me up, Sasquatch,” Gabriel ordered. Sam obliged and pulled the smaller boy up onto the couch but Gabriel almost fell into Sam’s lap. The taller boy blushed as Gabriel scrambled back onto his side of the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Crap, we missed some plot stuff, we gotta rewind it,” Gabriel said when he looked at the scene playing on the T.V.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it,” Sam said quickly. “Sharks in sand, not much to miss, right?”

Gabriel smirked and rewound the movie a good ten minutes, and Sam sighed in defeat as he had to sit through the bone-dry acting and clichéd lines once again. 

For some reason, kishin-egg activity had dropped suddenly—the monsters were either becoming better at hiding from the DWMA, or they were in general decline (unlikely considering kishin-eggs had been around for thousands of years without a sudden drop-off like this). Dean had muttered the word ‘waiting’ while tossing a worried look Castiel’s way when he thought no one else had seen him. 

Since there was nothing to hunt, students were finding themselves with more free time than they’d ever imagined. Lord Death had announced to everyone in a school-wide announcement to ‘Enjoy the down time, but always be ready for any reported activity. This isn’t a vacation,” the Reaper had said with cheerful finality. 

So the sisters and Kali were off doing some mysterious thing, Gabriel and Sam were watching movies and—

“Do you know what Dean and Cas are up to?” Sam asked curiously. 

“Nah, probably training or something equally unfun,” Gabriel said with a shrug. 

“Funny, I’d have figured you’d at least invite Dean over, too. He’s mentioned his appreciation for terrible horror films many times.” 

“Huh. Well, I must’ve missed that,” Gabriel said vaguely. He hit the pause button on the remote, freezing the frame so that a terribly-animated ‘sand shark’ was in the middle of devouring someone. Sam chuckled at the image as Gabriel turned to him, a smirk on his face. 

“Speaking of Dean and Cas,” the weapon said. “Do you think there’s…something going on with them?”

Sam blinked several times and swallowed loudly. “I, uh…” he said uncomfortably. He wondered how long he could stall before Gabe left him alone on it, but the gleam in those amber eyes showed the weapon wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. Sam sighed in defeat. “Honestly, no idea. But they do sorta…orbit each other a lot, don’t they?”

Gabriel hissed an affirmative. “Yes! Finally, someone else who sees it! I knew I wasn’t the only one! Kali called me crazy and told me to mind my own business, but you see it too!”

“Yeah, and they do that whole ‘when one looks away the other’s staring at him’ and stuff, too,” Sam said, hand on the back of his neck. “I, uh…haha, honestly, I was wondering about that myself.”

“If Dean was in fact gay or bi or whatever, would it bug you?” Gabriel asked, golden eyes locked on Sam’s face, watching him carefully. The low light of the living room made those bright hazel eyes almost black. 

Sam thought about it for a moment and shook his head slowly. “Nah, not really. I’m still having a hard time accepting the fact that he is (or at least thinks) he’s my _cousin_ more than him being bi or whatever.” 

Gabriel grinned even wider. “What about you, Sammy? What team do you pitch for?”

Considering the direction of the conversation, Sam had a feeling it was going to go this way, but he still squirmed uncomfortably under that piercing golden stare. Images and ideas of Ruby and Meg flashed through his mind, but those golden eyes made it hard to concentrate on anything. 

Sam ducked his head so Gabriel couldn’t see the blush he could feel lighting up his cheeks. “I honestly don’t know,” he said quietly. “You should ask someone who’s been on a date before.” 

Through his long bangs Sam caught the look of utter surprise on Gabriel’s face. “Do _what_?! You’ve never been on a date before? But you’re—Sam, man, you’re easy on the eyes and brilliant, what more do girls _want_?” The weapon asked, his voice pitched high in surprise. 

Sam chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But it’s not a big deal. I’m here to make the strongest Death Weapon ever and then get out into the world. That’s all I want.” 

“There’s no one around here that even interests you? Not even your own weapons?”

“Gabriel, what if I got into something with Ruby or Meg and it didn’t work out? Now I’m stuck living with my ex, working with her and her sister every day. That’s assuming they don’t have a falling out over it. Nope, that’s a situation I’m not touching with a ten-foot pole.”

Sam sighed in exasperation when Gabriel face froze. The meister could see Gabriel trying not to laugh, but his shaking body was not a very subtle hint at his failure. “Come on, Gabe, I’d like to have at least one conversation with you that doesn’t turn into an innuendo!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gabriel asked, and he let out a horrible death wail when Sam fixed his bitch-face on him. Gabriel flopped over the side of the couch as though stabbed and dead; Sam didn’t move or even speak for several minutes, but Gabriel didn’t move. 

When Sam glanced at the screen again, he cleared his throat. “As is only fair, I get to pick the next movie.”

Sure enough, Gabriel was ‘revived’ and returned to his spot on the couch. “Fine, Samikins, but I get full veto power. No documentaries or anything, got it?” 

Sam grinned. “Sure, sure. Ever heard of a movie called Pontypool?”

~*~

As the credits started to roll an hour and a half later, Gabriel blinked a few times and found Sam staring at him expectantly.

“So?” Sam asked. “What did you think?”

“Well, it certainly is different. I mean, it’s no ‘Stripper Zombies from Pluto’ but it’s not bad,” the weapon said. Sam’s face fell slightly. 

“Oh, I guess you didn’t really like it, then?”

“The whole twist was a little…odd?” Gabriel said. “And it was distinctly pun-free, which was a bit of a bummer.” 

“Odd? No, it actually made sense!” Sam said, and he broke into a rant about language and words and how they carry meaning and a lot of other stuff that made Gabriel want to scratch his head in confusion. 

“Geez, even your B-movies are too smart for me,” Gabriel murmured in good nature once Sam stopped to breath. 

“Yeah, you either love it or hate it,” Sam said, not mad. He looked at the clock on the wall and jerked in realization. “Oh, shit, it’s almost 3:30 A.M.! I really need to get back to my place.” 

“Why, it’s not like the girls are back,” Gabriel said, motioning around the empty apartment. 

“Aren’t you worried?” Sam asked as he got up to grab his things and jacket. 

“Not at all. Kali, Meg, and Ruby, remember?” Gabriel pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text. A moment later his phone buzzed, and he turned the screen to Sam to show it was from Kali and it said _‘We’re fine. Having Fun. Be home soon.’_

“Take a load off, Sasquatch!” Gabriel said, patting the spot Sam had been sitting all night. The cushion was still warm from his long stay. 

“But…I should get back. I’m actually getting pretty tired and it’s a long walk.” Sam did let loose a ridiculous yawn after that. 

“Forget it, the apartment’s too far away,” Gabriel said in an authoritative voice when he saw Sam’s huge yawn. He turned off the T.V. and sound system and returned to his bedroom, leaving Sam standing awkwardly in the living room. A moment later Gabriel came out, laden down with several pillows and a blanket, which he set on the end of the couch. “Stay here tonight! The couch is actually pretty comfy. I’ll warn Kali so she doesn’t think you’re an intruder and kill you,” the weapon said cheerfully. 

“Well, now after that I definitely want to stay,” Sam said sarcastically, but he yawned again and rubbed his drooping eyelids unconsciously. The big squishy pillows and the fuzzy blanket did look pretty appealing….

“Come on, Sam! Please?” Gabriel asked. “Just pass out on the couch and we can hang out some more tomorrow. You can’t tell me you don’t get a little stir-crazy with just you and the biker babes cooped up in the tiny dorm all the time.” 

The idea of watching movies and cracking snarky remarks at each other did sound pretty fun to Sam’s tired brain. It didn’t help Gabriel was already pulling off his coat by that point. Sam’s suddenly exhausted brain just wanted sleep, and Gabriel’s couch would allow him to do that the fastest. So, he pulled out his keys, wallet, phone and put them on the table and flopped onto the couch. 

“But…I don’t wanna take your pillows and blanket,” Sam objected, just as he was about to grab the things and punch them into a suitable sleeping position. 

Gabriel dismissed his worry. “Relax! I’m borrowing most of these from Kali anyway, she had, like, a thousand when she moved in. You’re more than welcome to take my extras.”

“You didn’t bring pillows with you?” Sam asked sleepily, stacking the pillows into a squishy lump at one end of the couch. 

Gabriel shrugged. Sam caught the look of hesitance in the weapon’s eye. “I packed light,” Gabriel said. “Didn’t have much to bring,” he said after another awkward moment. Sam turned to see Gabriel looking at the floor like it held the secrets of the universe. 

Sam sat up and patted Gabe’s leg a few times. “Neither did I,” Sam confided. “Brought what I could fit into a backpack. So, our room’s a little…barren,” he admitted. 

“Not everyone thinks that their dorm room should look like a palace,” Gabriel said with a reassuring wink at Sam. “Kali just does everything over the top.”

“No wonder you two get…*yawn* along,” Sam said, stifling another yawn.

“Go to sleep, Sammy-whammy, you need your beauty rest!” Gabriel said with a chuckle as he made a shooing motion for Sam to lie down. 

“Thanks, Gabe,” Sam said with a sleepy slur. 

“Not a problem, Sammy,” the weapon said, and Sam could hear the grin in his voice. 

Gabriel was almost to his bedroom door when Sam called out to him. “What’s up, Sam?”

Sam had reached over to the coffee table next to the couch and grabbed the pen and writing pad sitting on it. He scribbled on the pad for a moment and held up the top sheet enough for Gabriel to see PUNS written on it in blocky letters.

“Do you remember what I called those puns in that shark movie?” Sam asked slowly.

“Uh…god-awful?”

“No,” Sam corrected. He ripped the sheet down the middle. “I said they were ‘tear’-able.”

Gabriel’s infectious laughter was startled right out of his small frame. The sound was so loud Sam hopped he didn’t wake up the neighbors. At the same time, he kind of didn’t care. Gabriel’s face when he was laughing was worth any grump from other students. Besides, it was a Friday night. If Sam Winchester wasn’t studying tonight, no one else needed to be. 

“Sam! You never cease to amaze! ‘Tear’-able, hahaha!” Gabriel snorted, wiping away a tear freed from the belly laughs. 

“I try,” Sam said with a grin. After that, even Sam’s impressive mind couldn’t keep going; within a minute he was snoring gently on the couch. 

Gabriel quietly padded to his bedroom and after he closed the door shot a triumphant fist into the air. “Yes! Sam’s never been on a date and he’s not completely straight! I still got a chance with the more handsome Winchester!” he hissed to himself.

“And he has a secret love of terrible puns!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, do I see some Sabriel finally appearing in the distance? XD
> 
> Also, the movies mentioned in this fic are "Sand Sharks," a dubious Jaws/Tremors knock-off that's actually a lot of fun to watch, and "Pontypool" a really awesome Canadian horror movie with a pretty interesting take on zombies. I highly recommend both, and last I knew they were both on Netflix. 
> 
> FINAL NOTE:  
> The plot's about to slam home, and here's a little hint at the upcoming madness: Night Vale. Kishin-egg. Siege.  
> Mwahahaha!


	24. NV Halloween Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be a relaxing, fun Halloween for the gang, but when something attacks Night Vale and brings an army of kishin-eggs with it, what else is Dean, Cas, and the group supposed to do? Kick ass, off course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this was supposed to be up yesterday, but...I kinda forgot to post on this site after posting on ff.net. I'm so sorry! 
> 
> To all my readers who’ve kept up with this series, thank you so much for your comments and views. I’m really sorry for the delay in chapters. Have a super-long, 2 chapter Halloween arc as an apology! (part two will be up later)
> 
> This arc takes place in Night Vale, and as of writing this I was up to episode 50, but this is more of a generic Night Vale storyline. So, nothing in mentioned about events that happen later in the Night Vale Canon (Old Oak Doors have no bearing on this). It’s just our favorite Night Vale characters doing what they do best.

**I**  
 _“Hello, Listeners. To those just joining us, this is Cecil Palmer, and I wish you a Happy All Hallow’s Eve wherever you may be. Whether it be here, in Night Vale, or outside of the desert that surrounds our hometown, or even if you have found yourself currently on the dark side of the moon with no recollection of how you got there or where you were originally going. Even screaming as loudly as you can, hoping that someone will hear you, you know that there is no sound in space, and thus no one can hear you. Even if this is where your life will end, silently, wordlessly, I still wish you a fun and safe Halloween._

_I am in the desert just outside of the town limits and reporting via my mobile radio set. I will be broadcasting the annual Samhain Veil Closing Ceremony when it begins at sunset. It’s an important time for the citizens of Night Vale to step forth and offer all that we have and all that we are to protect the town we call home. At this time I’d like to make a special announcement to the parents of Night Vale, getting your overly-excited children into their best business casual attire in time to embark upon your pre-selected Halloween Trick or Treat routes._

_You should have received your route map in the mail via messenger boa constrictor from the City Council sometime in August. If you did not, there are two reasons why. One, you did not pay your messenger boa constrictor the proper amount of tip. Remember, a freshly caught mouse or small bird, plus a dollar per foot is considered polite, considering how much slithering they must do on a daily basis. If you have the written blood receipt from your messenger last year, then congratulations! Your child was chosen to participate in the Ceremony that will be taking place this evening. It’s a very special job, and to be chosen is one of the highest honors bestowed upon anyone in Night Vale._

_Don’t worry, anxious parents. The ceremony is not dangerous—as we all know, on Halloween the veil between worlds is at its thinnest point, but in Night Vale sometimes the curtain stays open a little longer than it should. While it’s nice to see dead Grandpa Joe when he and the other deceased visit during the nocturnal hours of Halloween, the longer the veil is stuck open, the more chances there are for…less honorable guests to arrive in Night Vale. As I said before, there ceremony is not dangerous, though vacant stares, levitation, chronic drooling, and speaking in alien tongues are common ailments afterwards. Children are also unable to do long division and eat with sporks, but these side-effects seem temporary nuisances at best._

_Meanwhile, the City Council has decreed that--”_

“Cas! Come on, man, turn off the show and get out here!” 

The radio clicked off and Castiel hustled out of their shared bedroom. Dean was standing in front of the door, ready to leave, when he let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

“What?” Castiel asked.

Dean grabbed his leather jacket’s lapel. “Dude. Coat. Now.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the desert in October, dumbass! It’s below freezing outside and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna nurse your dumbass through a cold.”

“Dean, I haven’t needed one yet. Besides, I’m a Weapon. We metabolize differently than normal humans—I naturally run hotter than most.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just get a coat already.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes but knew there was little chance of him out-stubborning Dean once the meister had his mind set. He did as he was told, and when he returned Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you supposed to be? A tax accountant?”

Castiel looked down at the trench coat he was wearing. It was a size too big for his lanky frame and it was a boring tan color, but he thought it went rather well with the navy blue dress shirt and slacks he was wearing. “You honestly have the gall to make fun of the coat you demanded I wear?” he asked in a growl. 

“Don’t pop a blood vessel, I was just teasing! It’s…not bad,” Dean said, a smirk still on his face. “Come on, let’s go!” 

~*~

Castiel looked a little nervous as he and Dean stood outside of the apartment. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on. What’s the point of a party? On Halloween?” Castiel asked.

“It’s Halloween. You have scary parties and hang out and eat lots of sugar. It’s Gabriel’s National Holiday,” Dean said. “You never did anything on Halloween?”

“Not like this. Raphael didn’t make celebrating holidays a necessity,” Cas admitted. “He considered them distractions.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot you lived with a Teenage Mutant Ninja dick,” Dean said nonchalantly.

Castiel shot him an automatic glare. 

“Are you Jehovah’s Witnesses?” Dean asked. 

“….um, no?”

“Then I stand by my earlier statement,” Dean said with a shrug.

“Welcome to our parlor!” The short weapon, announced a black and red cape on his shoulders, his hair clicked back, and a terrible Transylvanian accent slapped haphazardly over everything he said. “Come, come, you are my most honored guests!” Gabriel said, sweeping them inside. 

Gabriel and Kali’s apartment was always opulent, but Kali had given the Halloween-decorating reigns to Gabriel, and now Dean and Cas entered they discovered the living room was transformed into a decrepit crypt. Fake cobwebs were strewn about, fake spiders and black cats and ghost and skeletons were everywhere. 

It was actually well done; it made Dean flash back to an old crypt a particularly nasty spirit had locked him in on one of his first hunts—Bobby and Rufus had to cut the door down with hatchets to get him out. 

“Is this normal?” Castiel asked, curiously staring at the decorations. A fake, severed hand on the table had thoroughly grabbed his attention. 

“Yeah, I think so. We only hunted on Halloween, and neither Mom nor Dad were going to let me or Jo run around taking candy from strangers. Witches love Halloween,” Dean admitted with a shudder at the stories he’d heard. “It was the holiday of choice for monsters to cause havoc. But, we sometimes got to watch bad movies if we weren’t hunting.”

“Hey, hey! No shop talk! We’re actually _off_ tonight!” Gabriel said, dropping the accent, as they followed him into the apartment’s impressive kitchen. Sam was sitting at the kitchen counter with Meg, while Ruby and Kali busied themselves making snacks for the evening. 

“Thank God you two came when you did,” Gabriel whispered at normal-talk loudness as they entered. “I’ve been surrounded by girls all afternoon!”

“Hey! I’ve been here all day, too,” Sam said in a huff.

“That’s what he said, _Samantha_ ,” Dean answered with an evil smirk, causing Gabriel to laugh at the bitch-face Sam threw their way. 

“God, please don’t start that,” Sam pleaded. 

“Hey, that’s my prerogative as your cousin,” Dean said with a playful shove. “Nicknames come with the turf, _bitch_.”

There was a slight awkward pause before Sam countered with “…Right. Well, then it’s my prerogative to kill you if you call me that again, _jerk,” he threatened.  
_

“But you might break a nail!” Gabriel giggled in an awfully high-pitched tone. Even Dean snickered while Sam looked more annoyed. 

“You’d be surprised how much damage a broken nail could do to an unprotected eyeball,” Ruby said nonchalantly, looking at her own. Everyone paused to stare at her, and she munched on a potato chip innocently as she sat on the edge of the counter. The black witch’s hat on her head seemed to be defying gravity as it sat lopsided on her head, a tiny bell on the end of it jingling every time she moved. 

“What? Meg understands, don’t cha sis?” Ruby asked with a wicked grin.

“Nice coat, Cas,” Meg said in her low drawl, clearing changing the subject and ignoring the curious looks. The angel weapon shot a smug look at Dean, who simply rolled his eyes. She had black jeans and boots, her usual style, but tonight she wore a lacey, long-sleeved shirt that seemed to be nothing but black spider webs interwoven together over a black tank top. Cas’s eyes got stuck on Meg for several seconds before he greeted her with a shy smile. 

“Good evening, Meg. The…webs…look nice on you,” Castiel said with a straight face.

“Thanks, Clarence. All the better to snatch up unsuspecting prey. Like angels,” she said with a wink and Castiel coughed, masterfully hiding his surprise.

“Oh, really?” Dean cut in, most charming smile on. “What about Hunters?”

“Can’t brag about all those hunting skills if I get you _that_ easily,” she said with a grin, and flicked a piece of popcorn at Dean’s forehead. She chuckled at it bounced off him. 

“Yeah, I know its Halloween and all, but that’s _gross_ ,” Gabriel said in a huff. 

“I still can’t believe Lord Death told us to sit tonight out!” Ruby said in a huff as she dumped a bag of chips into a bowl. She was used to Meg’s flirtatious ways. 

“With the dwindling number of kishin-eggs, he wanted to give those with lower egg counts a chance to catch up,” Castiel said as he laid his coat over the back of another kitchen chair and sat down. 

“Yeah, well, it was only a matter of time ‘til he caught onto health-nut’s routine,” Meg said, shooting a knowing smirk at her meister who blushed slightly. 

Every morning Sam ran from the apartments to the school—he claimed it was for exercise, but he always came back with three kishin-egg assignments that he distributed to Kali and Dean. One of the perks of being a jogging junkie was having first pick of the assignments, and when the assignments were few are far between, they (at least) were always guaranteed a hunt. It was only a matter of time before Death decided to give other students a fair shot. He asked his best Meisters to relax on Halloween, which the teenagers were perfectly content to do. 

“I, for one, am so looking forward to tonight! Tons of candy, awesomely bad movies, and my best buds!” Gabriel said, throwing a friendly arm around Sam’s shoulders. Sam looked a little nervous when the smaller boy winked at him. “What more could a guy want?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you had a radio?” Castiel asked. “I was hoping to continue listening to the Night Vale broadcast…”

“I have to join in the festivities, you’re going to have to interact at _some_ point this evening also,” Kali said as she pulled out a pan of cupcakes from the oven. Her red dress was skin tight, sleeveless and mid-thigh length. It was embroidered with black skulls and orange flames, while the chain of silver skulls slung low on her hips made her easily the most beautiful and over-dressed one in the room. 

“The Goddess of Destruction has spoken!” Gabriel announced in his deepest, most booming voice. 

Kali rolled her eyes but a smirk graced her lips. It had taken some time for her to—well, not embrace, but at least accept—Gabriel’s little flock of strange friends. After their mysterious night out, the girls were warmer towards each other than they had been since meeting, and while Kali was still smug and conceited, she did try to play nice with everyone. She was even allowing them to visit more often. No one could say no to Gabriel for too long, it seemed.

“I had no idea the Destroyer liked to bake. Sort of ruins the whole ‘blood and skulls’ theme a bit, doesn’t it?” Dean asked, pulling himself from her curves and smooth skin. 

Instead of becoming angry, she simply shrugged. “Keep up that flippant attitude of yours and we’ll see what I bake _you_ into.”

“A pie,” Dean said without hesitation. “If God has decreed I’m going to die a flaky, buttery death, then at least let it be in a pie. Apple would be good,” he added after a thought. 

Kali was left blinking uncertainly at the meister; she couldn’t tell if he’d been kidding or not….

Dean’s opinion of watching a Godzilla movie was drowned out in a chorus of groans from the girls, though Sam and Gabriel both looked interested, as Castiel went into the living room to find the radio.

“So, Sam, what are you supposed to be? A Canadian or a lumberjack?” Dean asked, playfully rubbing his elbow into Sam’s ribs. The other Winchester looked at his red and while plaid shirt and groaned. 

“Look, it was the only thing I had with long sleeves,” Sam said in exasperation. “What about you? A douchebag, right?” he shot back. 

“You’re just jealous of my good looks and awesome jacket,” Dean said with a winning smile. 

Castiel returned with a stereo and placed in on the counter but out of everyone’s way. 

“Cas, not everyone wants to hear from the World’s Creepiest Town,” Dean said. 

“Actually, I’ve been curious about it ever since you got back,” Sam admitted. 

“It’s the perfect thing for Halloween night!” Gabriel agreed. 

“They are conducting a very important ceremony tonight to ensure our continued survival,” Castiel said in hushed tones as he turned on the radio, the teenagers munching on cupcakes as Cecil’s voice enveloped them.

~*~

_“The sun is low in the sky, blurring the line between sky and horizon in a blazing cloak of burnished orange and gold. The time to begin the annual ceremony is upon us. There is an air of nervous determination amongst the members of the group standing in the sand wastes—7 children, dressed in purple cloaks, and one of the Mysterious Hooded Figures that has volunteered to lead the ceremony._

_“With a raise of his cloaked arms the children have started a low, murmuring chant that’s--_

_“Huh. That’s…that’s a little odd. I just thought I saw…well, it doesn’t matter. Anyways—_

_“—There it is again! Listeners, I know that my eyes are not seeing things. At least, not in the sense that there is nothing for them to see, but rather them seeing something in one second that is no longer there the next. A woman in white, listeners. I could’ve sworn I saw a woman, with long blonde hair and a long white dress, appear behind one of the children standing before the hooded figure, only to disappear just as suddenly._

_“She was smiling, but it was not a jovial expression. It was a predatory smirk, a cat knowing it has a mouse cornered though the prey is completely unaware of its impending doom. What is she doing? Even teleporting citizens cursed with unpredictable phasing abilities cannot interrupt the ceremony once it has begun.! Even citizens with the smile of a ravenous wolf **must stay away**. Excuse me, Miss? Miss! Where did she go?_

_“The woman in white has reappeared, in the middle of the circle the children have formed, right behind the hooded figure. With that toothy grin on her face she has reached her hands forward and wrapped them around the hooded figure’s neck; the figure has dropped to the ground, and silence has fallen over the gathered children; they stand, dazed, the loss of the leader making them unable to dictate their own thoughts or motions._

_“She’s kneeling down and takes the burned bludstone into her hands and throws her head back—she is chanting something. I can’t…I can’t quite make out what’s she’s saying, but the hairs on my neck and hairs are standing up and it feels like the air is being sucked out of my very lungs….There’s…in the air behind her is this…opening? A slit, a tear in the very air grower wider and wider with every strange syllable she utters._

_“Now I see smoke? Thick, white, almost gelatinous smoke is oozing from the slit like pus from a festering wound. Listeners, if it wasn’t for the fact that I didn’t actually eat lunch today, I might have thrown it up right now because I feel ill. I feel contaminated by whatever is pouring through that tear. I feel corrupted, listeners, corrupted by unnamed evil._

_“The smoke is descending on the fallen hooded figure. The body is jerking and spasming on the ground as the woman finally stops her chant. As she watches expectantly, the hooded figure gets back to its feet, but it is…not the same from before. Before the figure had a slight hunch in its back, though from academia or old age I know not. Now it stands tall, confidence radiating from the body and seems to be looking at everything with a sense of superiority._

_“Listeners, I think they might have heard me, because the hooded figure and the woman are facing me, even though I am currently huddled in on myself in the fetal position under my mobile desk, watching the events through my binoculars. Their eyes, listeners! The hooded figure’s face is still hidden in dark shadows but pale eyes…pale blue eyes, like a corpse’s,, are looking at me from under the hood. And the woman! I could’ve sworn she had normal eyes but now I see nothing but white—no iris, no pupil, just white eyes._

_“The hooded figure is raising his hand and—oh! The ground, it’s shaking, quaking violently now…ow! I hit my head on my desk, yeesh…An earthquake? But there isn’t an earthquake scheduled for today! We had our scheduled earthquake last month, what’s going on?!_

_…._

_…._

_…._

_“Now there’s these…red spheres appearing, hovering about three feet over the sandy ground of the wastes. They’re everywhere and…yes, as I turned to look I can see more of these thing appearing towards Night Vale. What are they?_

_Oh._

_Oh, God. I just figured out…they’re not spheres. Those are…but they can’t be, listeners! I refuse to acknowledge what I’m seeing. Because if I acknowledge what I’m seeing then…Night Vale is doomed. With absolute certainty, I say this, listeners. There’s dozens of them, floating, waiting._

_“A cackle from the woman in the white seems to act as a call to arms for the spheres are spasming, they’re…oh, oh no. No!_

_“Listeners, Everyone in Night Vale is in grave danger. Lock yourselves inside your homes, your places of employment, and do not go outside. City Council, the Sheriff’s Secret Police, if anyone is listening, prepare yourselves. Hell is about to descend on our little town, and nightmares more fearsome than even your worst imaginings will be walking through our streets momentarily, searching out unlucky citizens to devour.  
Barricade yourselves, your families, your pets in safe places and wait for the inevitable, listeners, for these spheres are kishin-eggs, and they are **hatching** \--”_

When the radio transmission went dead, the teenagers looked at each other, ashy-faced and horrified. Gabriel had crumbs on his chin and wide eyes.

“So…I guess we _don’t_ have tonight off,” Gabriel managed to squeak.

~*~

Cas leapt from his chair and jerked his coat on. “We need to go. We need to go now!” Castiel growled at everyone when they still sat in unsure silence. Dean nodded. 

“What are you talking about? We just need to call Lord Death, tell him what we heard,” Sam said, unsure what to do. 

“We’ll call him on the way!” Castiel said. “But we need to go now. Cecil and Carlos can’t handle that many kishin-eggs alone. You heard him. _Dozens._ ”

“You want fast? We’ve got the fastest bikes this side of the state,” Ruby said. 

“Grab your bikes and meet at our place,” Dean ordered calmly. Sam and the girls looked at each other and nodded before taking off fast, Ruby’s bell jingling out the door and down the hall. 

Dean looked at Kali and Gabriel. “You two ride with us. The Chevelle is more than big enough. Dress for a hunt,” he added, though it pained him to say that as he was staring at Kali’s dress a few seconds too long. 

“You’re jumping the gun, Deanie. You seriously don’t think Lord Death has this handled? He probably already has meisters heading down there,” Gabriel said, sounding dismissive.

“So what?” Castiel said, glowering at the younger weapon. “We can still help. We need to help them. Cecil, Carlos, Gabby, they’re our friends and they need us. Now,” Castiel added when Gabriel didn’t move but only glared back. 

Kali frowned. “No one orders my weapon about but me,” she said coldly. “Gabriel, get dressed. And no, you can’t wear the cape,” she added, and the dejected weapon trudged off to his room, head low and mumbling. 

Dean and Castiel grabbed their coats and ran to their apartment with the car parked behind it. Sam and the girls arrived just as they got down to their car. Sam was on Meg’s bike, holding her mid-drift, and both Dean and Castiel felt a pang of jealously at the nerdy meister holding onto one of the hottest girls in the DWMA; both sighed at the unfairness of it all. 

“In the car, Sammy! We’re not going to have time to pry a Sam-sicle off of Meg’s back,” Dean ordered. Sam pulled off the helmet and gave Dean a potent bitch face, but he relented and got in the backseat. He didn’t have the gloves or leather jackets the girls did, and he had started shivering just on the quick ride over from their apartment, even with his long-sleeve shirts and thin jacket on. He didn’t want to admit it, but riding through the desert in a cramped car was going to be a lot more comfortable than on the back of a speeding bike. 

The back door opened and Gabriel and Kali slid in. Gabriel found himself in the middle of the bench seat and let out a content sound. “Beautiful lady on one side, handsome guy on the other; how’d I get so lucky?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows at a glance towards Sam, attempting to make light of the situation the only way he knew how.

The taller boy managed to sigh loudly, but didn’t get the chance to retort as Dean floored it, leaving black tread marks on the pavement and a cloud of white smoke in the air as they raced off towards Night Vale, the two bikes following right behind him. 

Gabriel tumbled slightly into Sam’s lap as Dean pulled a sharp curb, which made Sam blush instantly. “Jeez, Winchester, ease up will ya!” he grumbled as he got back upright, thankfully missing Sam’s beet red cheeks and ears.

“We have to get there faster,” Castiel simply said, eyes staring out through the windshield to the desert road that left Death City and headed into the desert that separated it from Night Vale. 

“We’re no good to anyone _dead_ ,” Kali said simply from the backseat. Dean let off the gas, but just barely. Trying not to let his nerves show, he plastered a fake smile to his face. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, anyone here a fan of AC/DC?” He asked, and before anyone could answer the opening lines to “Thunderstruck” began blaring through the speakers. 

It was going to be a long drive, for every mile that went by everyone became more nervous, dreading seeing the highway sign that pointed towards the town. What would they find in Night Vale? Would they even be needed? What if Death’s Meisters were already there? 

What if Death _hadn’t_ heard the radio broadcast?

What if Death hadn’t sent anyone at all?

~*~

After getting off the highway onto route 800 and traveling a few miles down the seemingly empty desert, the town of Night Vale appeared on the horizon. 

“What the hell is that?” Gabriel asked fearfully as he stared out the windshield in alarm. Sam and Kali squished into the middle in order to see what Gabriel saw. 

Night Vale was silhouetted by flashes of orange and green light against the blackened night sky. The flashes looked almost like explosions….

“Holy shit!” Dean snarled and jerked the car to the side; luckily Meg and Ruby had kept the bikes far back enough that they weren’t sideswiped. 

A huge black shadow flew overhead of the car and flames erupted across the road before them. Dean jerked the car onto the gravel shoulder and managed to dodge the random fire before swinging back onto the highway. The twin bikes roared behind him as they followed his lead. 

“What the hell!” Sam yelped. 

“Where’s fire coming from?” Kali demanded. 

Another stream of fire seemed to explode off the highway in the desert; from the quick glance Dean saw, he could see figures silhouetted from the flames. Spindly, monstrous things swallowed by the flames. Kishin-eggs, he realized. 

Castiel rolled his window down and half climbed out of it until his entire torso was hanging out. 

“Cas, get your ass back inside!” Dean snarled, but Cas ignored him. 

“Mr. McDaniels!” Cas yelled into the night air, hands around his mouth to make himself louder. The enormous black shadow passed overhead once again, until it was flying alongside the passenger side of the racing Chevelle. All eighteen feet and five heads of it. 

“Dean! There’s a….” Sam said, unable to finish. 

“There’s a friggin’ _dragon_ flying alongside the car!” Gabriel said. 

“This is insane,” Kali said in awe.

“His name’s Hiram McDaniels,” Dean explained. When the kids in the backseat stared at him, he shrugged. “He’s running for mayor.”

Sam, Gabriel, and Kali all smushed together, trying to get a better look, and Dean was thankful that the girls had nerves of steel while on those bikes. Dodging fire raining from the sky and an overzealous dragon should have knocked off of them clean off, but they were still following him, a little farther back now, though. He let up on the gas and prayed Cas didn’t fall out.

“We’re from the DWMA,” Castiel yelled. “We’re here to help!” 

The dragon, Hiram McDaniels, had five heads of different colors, and it was his green head that glared at the boy. “We don’t need any sort of help from you uncooked lamb chops!” it decreed. 

“The green head doesn’t mean that,” Hiram’s golden head in the middle of the bunch said. “We could use the assist, youngsters. Got a bit of a little infestation on our hands.” 

The Texas accent suddenly reminded Dean of his father, which made him realize that this was a fucking stupid idea. What if he and Castiel’s zealotry had gotten them, their friends killed? What if he never saw his family again? He felt bile rise up his throat, but managed to not vomit everywhere.

Hiram’s violet head suddenly started spewing flames off to the side, and the teenagers saw more kishin-eggs wandering through the desert wastes. Night Vale itself was less than a half a mile away, and Dean saw that the explosions were so bright they illuminated the sea of shapes moving across the ground and up the sides of buildings like a tsunami of ink. 

They didn’t stand a chance, not on their own. They needed help!

“Mr. McDaniels, we need to get to Cecil and Carlos,” Cas yelled, still hanging out of the car. Dean shook his head; the mental image that his partner was having a casual conversation with a dragon flying alongside his car as they drove into hell was making his head dizzy. 

“Last we heard of Cecil, he was broadcasting in the sand wastes,” Hiram replied. “Might be your best shot.”

“Actually, it is typical, during emergency events that require barricading oneself in seeming safety against impossible odds, to go to the high school gymnasium,” the dragon’s blue head suddenly answered. 

“Who are we kidding?” Hiram’s gray head asked. “We’re never going to stop these things. We should just let them wash over Night Vale and end our miserable existences.” 

All the other heads stared at the gray line like it had suddenly become a giraffe head. “This is our home! If anyone is going to burn it to the ground, it’ll be us!” the violet head snapped. 

“Directions!” Cas demanded, sensing the heads were about to get into a real argument. 

“Get inside!” Dean yelled, seeing the wall of kishin-eggs they were going to have to drive through just to get into the town. They’d surely rip Cas apart if he was still hanging half-out of the window!

“The gym is straight down Main Street on the right!” Hiram answered. “Let me clear a path for ya,” the dragon said, and with a burst of speed flew in front of the car and sprayed the highway with flames. Cas pulled himself back into the passenger seat just in time, as monstrous nightmare shapes were turned into ash instantly, leaving the floating eggs behind as the car drove past. 

“Maybe this won’t be so bad,” Dean said. “Why don’t we just let Hiram barbecue them all?”

“…Because it could never be that simple,” Sam said, staring out the rear-view window to see kishin-eggs suddenly form bodies again. Bodies that were just ash. 

“I guess if you don’t harvest the eggs immediately, they resurrect?” Gabriel said, looking at Sam fearfully. 

“Okay, well, that sucks,” Dean muttered. He glanced over at Castiel and, despite the ridiculously windswept hair and cheeks red from the biting wind, the boy looked bright-eyed. 

“I just spoke to Hiram!” Cas said in an excited whisper. 

They whipped onto Main Street and immediately had to start dodging kishin-eggs everywhere: Humanoid shapes with bat wings, demented doll-creatures, and a kishin-egg that looked like the Hulk but had scythes for hands; there were too many clogging up the streets and sidewalks. Unlucky citizens of Night Vale were fleeing down the streets, although some got snatched by the nightmarish creatures and dragged off screaming into the night. 

“We’re not going to make it!” Dean yelled as he tried his best, but monsters and people were only part of the problem, as people, in their haste to escape, had abandoned cars right in the middle of the road. There was only so fast he could whip the car around the other vehicles without crashing. 

A kishin-egg landed on the hood and stared through the windshield at them, smiling a demented smile with jagged, bloodstained teeth. It didn’t help that it was dressed like a dentist and had enormous drills for hands. 

Everyone in the car let out a scream of horror—while Dean managed an impressive shriek, Gabriel’s fearful screams drowned them all out. 

“KILL IT!!” Gabriel screamed, ducking his head into Sam’s shoulder and curling up his body as small as possible. “KILL IT WITH FIRE!!!” 

“Calm down, Gabriel!” Kali ordered. Sam was torn between pulling back and trying to move himself to shield the shorter boy from the monstrosity outside the windshield. He instinctually shielded the smaller weapon. 

_“The screaming. Isn’t. Helping!”_ Dean snapped through gritted teeth. The kishin-egg raised a drill hand in order to punch its way into the car to get at the morsels inside. Dean jerked the wheel hard to the left, trying to fling the monster from the car because he was now driving blind. There was a bone-jarring shudder as he instead swiped a parked car, his left headlight smashed and the panel dented. 

“Side street on the right! Turn now!” Castiel ordered. Dean jerked the wheel again and whipped the car down a side street that was miraculously kishin-egg free, finally stomping on the brakes as hard as he could. The car screeched and slide down the alleyway, finally sending the kishin-egg tumbling end over end down the dusty cobblestone road. 

With the car stopped, there was nothing but heavy panting in the car as people caught their breath from the adrenaline-soaked ride into town. All eyes stayed glued to the windshield, waiting to see if the kishin-egg got up again. 

“Is it gone?” Gabriel squeaked from Sam’s armpit.

Movement in front of them, and the monster was back on its feet, thought its head now sat at an awkward angle and its white coat was now covered in dirt. It swung around, fixed its red eyes on the car, and started shuffling towards them, ready to attack again. It never stopped smiling its bloodstained grin.

Gunfire erupted right between Cas and Dean, making them duck down as far as possible into the seats. They covered their ears yet still were almost made deaf from the concussive noise. Glass shattered and showered them. “What the friggin’ hell?!” Dean swore loudly. 

He had Cas glanced at each other before slowly sitting up, the sight of an orange and yellow water pistol pointing from the backseat towards the front. The two bullet-holes in the cracked glass told Dean the entire story. He turned slowly towards the backseat—Sam was shoved over to the side as far as possible, and Kali simply looked smug. “It was advancing on us,” she said. 

_“For the record, I had no say in this,”_ Gabriel’s voice called out defensively from the toy-weapon.

“You shot _through_ my windshield…You shot _through my car_!” Dean snapped. “You could’ve killed someone!” 

“I did. The kishin-egg is dead,” she said with a shrug. 

“What about my car? We can’t drive this now!” Dean yelled. 

“We were nothing but a giant target in this. On foot we might actually be able to move around without drawing too much attention to ourselves,” Sam said. Dean shot the traitor a glare.

“What’s done is done,” Castiel said, his tone settling the debate. He looked outside of his window. “The coast seems clear. We should go now. The car will be fine here.”

“Fine my ass!” Dean hissed as they carefully and quietly exited the vehicle. “You’re compensating me for damages and emotional duress!"

“Baby,” Kali shot back with a narrowing of her eyes. 

“No, if this was _Baby_ ,” Dean snarled quietly, motioning to the car, “You’d be _dead_!” 

“Is that a threat?” Kali asked dangerously. 

Dean and Kali stopped glaring at each other once Castiel got between them and gave their piercing blue stares. “This ends now,” he whispered, and both meisters stepped back after a moment once they realized where exactly they were. Screams, roars, and other unnatural sounds filled the air and made the hair on their necks stand on end. 

Gabriel returned to his human form and, while looking around nervously, he grabbed the soul and swallowed it with a grimace. “Candy this isn’t,” he muttered. 

“You’re never allowed to tease about my clown problem after that little display,” Sam whispered sternly. 

Gabriel’s eyes grew wide before his face flushed red. “I, uh…..crap. Okay, I hate dentists! Is that really that much of a shocker?” 

Sam ignored Gabriel and motioned for them to stay low and quiet. “Where the hell are my weapons?!” Sam asked in a panicked tone. 

Dean and Cas gave each other nervous, wide-eyed looks when they realized Meg and Ruby were nowhere in sight. “Crap!” Dean swore quietly. “I thought they were right behind me!” 

“We’ve gotta go find them!” Sam said, about to jump up, and the others nodded. Cas transformed into his Angel Blade form and Gabriel returned to his water pistol shape, Kali looking nonplussed and barely concerned with their current predicament. 

Sam felt naked without his gauntlet and knife in a combat situation, but that only made him more determined. They had to find his partners, and quickly. 

They snuck down the alleyway and paused at the end, Sam poking his head out to see if the coast was clear. “Girls!” he gasped. They paused, and could hear snarling sounds and moaning howls and underneath it they heard Ruby’s swearing and cries for “Sam!” 

Dean and Kali peeked around Sam and their mouths fell open in fear. Ruby, sans motorcycle helmet, had managed to climb her way up a fire-escape on an apartment building but only to the second floor. A dozen kishin where under her, jumping up and attempting to pluck them from the old metal staircase. At least one kishin-egg was climbing up the side of the building, and yet others had the bottom of the stairs and were attempting to rip them straight off the wall. Unable to move, she was crouched behind a gauntlet with a stone-like shield extending off of it—Meg, attempting to protect her younger sister from the monsters. 

Sam started to make a run for them, but Dean grabbed his arm and stilled him with a stare. “You’re gonna to get them killed along with your stupid ass if you just run out there,” Dean snapped. 

“I have to help them!” Sam whispered back with a snarl. 

“You’re no good to anyone dead, idiot!” Kali said. 

Dean looked at the pistol in her hands. “Please tell me Gabriel’s packing a little more punch than that?” 

Kali looked at her weapon uncertainly. “We haven’t gotten a chance to try his secondary form yet,” she admitted. 

“We’re out of options and time,” Dean said. Indeed, the kishin-egg climbing up the wall was level with Ruby, and was attempting to pluck her from the stairwell. She lunged forward and swung her gauntlet-covered air around, swatting the thing’s clawed hand away and knocking it off the wall to crash in the street below. 

Another kishin-egg (a tall and spindly monster that had black tentacles, a black suit, and a strangely-blank face) had wrapped its tentacles around the base of the fire escape stairs and successfully ripped them away from the wall. Ruby and Meg were trapped three floors up and had another kishin-egg baring down on them. “Shit!” Ruby swore loudly. “SAM!” 

Sam couldn’t wait any longer; he sprinted from their cover towards his partners and the kishin-egg horde attempting to get them. 

“Sam! Dammit!” Dean swore, unable to stop the other Winchester from running headlong into the kishin-egg horde. He hopped up and ran after Sam with Kali following, against her better judgment. 

Sam might have been weaponless but he wasn’t powerless. Like all meisters, he was faster, stronger, and tougher than normal humans; even without being connected to his weapons for a boost, he was still agile enough to weave through the kishin-eggs. Any that tried to lay a hand (or claws, or tentacles, or any sort of appendage in general) found themselves stabbed through with Dean’s Angel Blade or shot by Kali. 

Sam ran up to the hood of a truck and managed to leap onto a kishin-eggs back and used that as a spring-board to leap up and grab the mangled metal of what was left of the fire escape still attached to the building. He started to pull himself up but a powerful tentacle wrapped around his leg and started to pull him back down. He yelped in pain—another tug like that and he was pretty sure his leg was going to come _off_. 

“Sam!!” Ruby yelled in panic. She tried to take several steps forward but the metal screeched under her—any further movement would send both her and Sam tumbling down to the street. 

“HEY!! Asshats!” Dean shouted, drawing the kishins’ attention to him and Kali in the middle of the road. There were at least a dozen kishin right around them, but the teenagers managed to look more dangerous than frightened. The kishin-eggs all turned their myriads of colorful eyes towards her, Ruby, Meg and Sam momentarily forgotten. 

There was a flash of light in Kali’s hands as the water pistol became a super soaker that was almost as long as she was tall. “Maximum coverage, Gabriel!” she ordered, and with a pump of the shotgun-looking water gun, purple fire squirted from the gun and set the gathered kishin-eggs ablaze. There were ear-splitting death-shrieks as the kishin-eggs melted and disappeared. Within a moment there was nothing but a dozen floating eggs. 

Dean looked at Kali, then at Gabriel. “A super-soaker that sprays _napalm_?” 

_“It’s called thinking outside of the box, Deanie. You should give it a try sometimes,”_ Gabriel said cheerfully. 

Ruby peeked out from behind Meg, and let out a relieved whoop. “You sure took your sweet-ass time! We almost became hamburger!” she said. 

_Sam let go of the twisted steps and rolled as he hit the ground; luckily, he hadn’t been that high up, and though his leg was sore and was probably horribly bruised, it didn’t seem injured._

_Ruby looked at the meisters, and took a breath as she climbed over the thin railing keeping her from falling off the scaffolding altogether. She flung her off of the metal stairwell and transformed into her knife form—both she and her sister landed in Sam’s open arms, the gauntlet forming around his arm and the knife back in his hand._

“We thought you were right behind us! What happened?” he asked as Dean and Kali strode forward. 

_“Meg got jumped by a kishin-egg and was knocked clean off her bike. We missed where you went and so we had to make a run for it,”_ Ruby said. _“The bikes, aw man, the bikes are screwed up!”_

“We’ll compare vehicle damage later,” Dean said, shooting a look at Kali. 

Sam felt a lot less useless now that he had his weapons back. He felt like he could actually handle himself, and though he was relived Kali had saved his partners, saved him, part of him was pissed he couldn’t have done it himself. _I should have been able to do this on my own_ , he thought angrily. 

“We need to move,” Kali said. “The kishin-eggs crawling all over this town, and there will be more. We weren’t exactly quiet just now,” she said without apology. Gabriel returned and resumed his water pistol form. 

_“Your new form is incredible,”_ Castiel told Gabriel sincerely. _“Very impressive.”_

_“Aw, thanks Cassie!”_ Gabriel said proudly. 

_“Don’t call me that.”_ Castiel didn’t allow himself to feel any sort of jealously for the fact that a new and relatively inexperienced weapon had manifested a second form first. He wouldn’t allow it to bother him. 

Much. 

Maybe when their lives _weren’t_ in immediate danger. 

“Cas, straight up Main and on the right, is that what Hiram said?” Dean asked. 

_“Yes. Hopefully there we can find Cecil and Carlos. See if they managed to get word to Lord Death.”_

_“You can’t be that naïve, Cas,”_ Meg’s voice said suddenly. _“Come on! If he did know about this shit storm, don’t you think we’d have seen other Meisters by now?”_

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Dean said. “We’re here, and we’ve got to get to the gym if we want to stay alive. How far is it, Cas?” 

_“Half a mile, if my memory of the town serves me correctly,”_ Castiel said. 

Sam and Kali glanced at each other, both their faces a little pale. Half a mile was a fair amount of ground to cover—there would be a lot of kishin-eggs between here and there. 

**II**

They came from the desert wastes, following after the woman in white and the possessed hooded figure like demented ducklings, right into the heart of Night Vale. They slowly washed over the town of Night Vale with little concern for any attempt to stop them. The Sheriff’s Secret Police were unsuccessful in every attempt they tried to subdue the monsters. Placing black bags over their heads did not, as commonsense and animal documentaries suggested, calm the monsters in placidity so they could be transported elsewhere. It only seemed to anger the kishins and a few officers died in the attempts. 

Hiram’s aerial bombardment only seemed to slow them momentarily. For whatever reason, these kishin-eggs continued to resurrect unless they were harvested, and so there was no real way to stop them. Once the dragon ran out of juice or became too exhausted to continue, there would be no respite from the monsters. 

Several kishin-eggs were about to slash their way through the electrified chain-link fence that encircled the Dog Park just as a Mysterious Hooded Figure walked by inside, hands clasped behind its back and walking jauntily without a care in the world. The M.H.F. turned back just as the kishin-eggs were to attack and snapped its fingers several times to get their attention. When the kishin-eggs had their eyes locked on its blacked-robed body, the figure pointed at a sign on the fence and stomped its foot firmly. 

Eyes landed on the sign and stared at it for several seconds. “Do Not Enter the Dog Park,” it said simply. The kishin-eggs looked at the sign, then at the H.F., then at each other, and very slowly backed away, moving on down the road. The hooded figure watched them intently until the kishin-eggs were a block away before it continued its walk as though nothing had interrupted it. 

"That was weird,” Dean hissed and ducked down behind a low wall. Sam and Kali nodded in agreement. 

_“Maybe we should try to get in there,”_ Ruby suggested. 

“If the kishin-eggs want nothing to do with that place, we might want to give it a wide-berth too,” Sam said. 

_“Do Not Enter the Dog Park,”_ was Castiel’s helpful and stoically spoken warning. 

“How much farther?” Kali asked in a whisper. The three meisters were tired, sweaty, dirty, and becoming more frayed from paranoia. They’d dodged most of the kishin-eggs but still had to fight their way out of several scraps, and they hadn’t even managed to get to the school yet. 

“I think’s that’s it,” Dean said, motioning at the enormous brick building with its fenced-in parking lot about a block in front of them. They had to duck down several back alleys in order to avoid large clusters of kishin-eggs; another reason for their exhaustion. 

_“Thank God,”_ Gabriel muttered. _“No offense, but this Halloween has sucked ass so far.”_

“It’s clear, we gotta go,” Dean said. He tucked Castiel into his belt and made a running leap—he cleared the rooftop edge and tumbled gracefully on the neighboring roof. Now there was nothing between them and the school. Sam and Kali followed his lead, and the three of them stood and assessed the new situation. 

“Well, there goes the idea for looking for an open window,” Dean moaned, when they saw kishin-eggs crowded around the building’s walls, checking the windows and crawling onto the walls and rooftop, looking for a way in. 

“Now what do we do?” Sam asked as they three of them crouched to hold a whispered conference when the sounds of running caught their ears. Peeking over the wall of the rooftop, two familiar figures were seen running towards them up Main Street. Several large kishin-eggs of various nightmare-inducing shapes were following after them, one a man with white hair and a purple tie, the other a Hispanic man in a white lab coat. 

“Cecil! Carlos!” Dean said in surprise. 

There was a flash of light, and Cecil was no longer running in tandem with his scientist boyfriend with perfect hair. He was now running with an old-school broadcasting radio in his hands that connected to a pair of oversized headphones around his neck. 

“Carlos’ weapon form is a _radio_?” Dean asked incredulously. “How in the world is that considered a _weapon_?” 

Cecil twisted around and actually managed to keep up his pace while running backwards, facing the kishin-eggs head on. “Get out of here! Go on, shoo!” he commanded through the radio. The sound waves that emanated with every noise Cecil made seemed to strike the kishin-eggs like physical blows. 

A faster kishin-egg leapt forward and tried to disembowel the radio broadcaster; Cecil sidestepped the attack with surprising grace. “You almost ruined my favorite shirt! Carlos gave this too me,” he said, and the monster’s head whipped back and forth as it was struck repeatedly from invisible punches. 

Unfortunately, with him running backwards, he did not see another kishin emerge from the shadows just up ahead; dressed like a 1940s Mafia gangster, the kishin-egg leveled its Tommygun at the unsuspecting radio host and— 

“Cecil! Watch out!” With the natural grace and agility of a cat, Dean leapt from the building’s roof and landed on the mafia kishin’s back, letting the momentum drive his Angel Blade deep into the monster’s back. 

At the same time the kishin-egg that almost ripped Cecil’s guts out was shot several times in the chest from above and collapsed onto the ground before dissipating, its soul left floating in the air. 

Cecil looked all over to see an Indian girl atop with roof overhead with what looked to be a child’s water pistol shooting into the horde chasing him. Another boy—not terribly tall but thin from a hard life—had a hunting knife that he wielded like a machete and a shield attached to his arm. Kishin-eggs paused and were slashed apart in the boy’s ferocity. After turning back around he saw a familiar boy land on his feet as a mafia kishin died. 

“Dean! You’re a sight for sore eyes!” Cecil said, coming to an exhausted stop before the Meister. He glanced at the silver blade in Dean’s hand. “Castiel?” 

“Sammy! Watch out!” Dean shouted, ducking past Cecil. A kishin-egg was about to bring its two-foot long claws down on Sam’s turned back. Dean leapt onto the kishin-egg’s back, its body like solidified shadows, and when it turned its head to try and bite at Dean’s face, orange eyes bored into emerald. 

“Michael!” Dean snarled. “You need to stay dead already!” He stabbed it a few times in the ribs, thoroughly distracting it from Sam, who was having his own kishin-egg problems. Three of them, to be exact. 

The former intern, and strangely enough Dean’s first kishin-egg kill, swung its body around so fast he was sent flying through a storefront window across the street. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted, seeing the other Winchester go flying. Forgetting the kishin-eggs he was tangling with, he ran to the storefront as quick as lightning. 

“Now you listen here,” Cecil snarled in his most thunderous voice, and the Intern-Michael Kishin-egg was pummeled by the sound waves Carlos created with Cecil’s voice. Its face was nothing more than disfigured shadowy flesh under Carlos’ assualt. Despite this, the kishin ran forward and attempted to snatch Cecil up, clearing wanting to do nothing more than cut him in half. 

“Dean is my friend. And you will not hurt him, or anyone else!” Former Intern Michael was lifted up and slammed into a light pole and then the sidewalk, the concrete cracked under its great weight and the force of the attack. It immediately disappeared, leaving its red soul behind. 

Purple fire spurted from beside Cecil and Kali laid down a great swath of purple flames from her modified super-soaker, and soon the street was empty of kishin-eggs. For the moment. 

There was shattered glass and blood _everywhere_. Though his jacket and layers of clothing had taken most of the blow, Dean was still a wreck of sliced open flesh and glass shards. Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, leading him out of the window, and winced as Dean cried out in pain. Castiel’s Blade was shoved against his chest—against all logic, Dean and tried to shield the weapon from the glass; though he knew that Castiel was safe from any physical harm in his weapon form, it had been an instinctual act. 

“Why did you do that?” Sam demanded in a hiss. 

“That dick was about to rip your head off,” Dean said in a heated whisper, eyes narrowed in pained irritation that Sam wasn’t acting very grateful. “You’re welcome, asshole.” 

“I didn’t ask for you to help me, I had it under control! I don’t need you protecting me.” 

“You’re my cousin. Family looks out for family.” 

Sam’s eyes grew hard and he stepped back slightly, only giving Dean the barest amount of support to keep standing. “Stop saying that! I don’t know you. You’re a stranger to me!” 

Dean’s angry face fell in surprise and hurt. “You still…don’t remember me?” 

“No!” Sam said in frustration. “I don’t…I don’t remember anything.” 

“Well, then, idiot, since you seem to have a problem with that f-word, here’s another for you. Friend. We’re friends, so stop acting like a bitch about it,” Dean growled, his tone ending the conversation. Sam didn’t get a chance to speak further as the others finally got the chance to run to them. 

Cecil and Kali finally appeared. “Dean, you’re hurt! We must get to the gymnasium, there’s surely something there we can use to--” Kali started. 

“The Kishin-eggs have the entire place surrounded,” Dean said, hissing and groaning in pain. Everything hurt. 

_“Surrounded…was there a lowered bridge in front of the gym?”_ Carlos asked, his voice sounding tinny as it resounded through the microphone Cecil was still holding. Dean shook his head slowly. 

“A change of plans, then. The Radio Station is just a few blocks in the other direction. We’ll go there, and barricade ourselves inside,” Cecil said. 

“We’re already here, why not try to fight our way into the school?” Kali hissed. 

“The only way into the gym is to send word via carrier hawk and wait from them to let down the gates, and I forgot my hawk at home today,” Cecil said with a shrug. “With the kishin-eggs crawling all over it like maggots on a bloated corpse, the gym will be sealed up tight. At least everyone inside will be safe.” 

Sam and Kali just stared at him. “This place is crazy!” they both exclaimed, but any further words they had died in their throats when they finally caught sight of the moving tattoos that covered Cecil’s forearms, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up to the elbows and revealing the swirling, blinking masses of ink. 

“Yeah, it’s a regular Twilight Zone,” Dean said. “Now, I’m not bleeding any less here. A little more moving, a little less talking, please?” 

“Right. Sorry. Come on, now, kids, cover us,” Cecil said, and he was about to fling an arm around Dean to help support him when Castiel re-appeared next to his partner. 

“Cas, what’re you doing out of weapon—“ 

Castiel didn’t respond to Dean, he just shrugged Dean’s arm over his shoulder, supporting the taller and heavier boy easily. Dean bit his lip to keep from crying out at the glass, several shards embedded in his back and shoulders. 

“I will protect you, _now_ ,” was all Cas said with steely resolve. 

Cecil stared at Castiel for several seconds. “The man in the tan jacket!” he whispered in surprise. After a moment, he blinked, and narrowed his eyes. “Wait a second, I still remember you.” 

“I’m not a…fly salesman,” Castiel said cryptically. 

Since Cecil and Castiel didn’t say anything more, Dean figured the bizarre conversation was a hallucination caused by pain. It was the only thing that made sense. 

When Meg returned, she was holding two red souls and handed them to Castiel. “These were yours,” she said simply. Castiel swallowed them and felt his depleted energy stores fill slightly. A few more souls would give him more than enough power to help heal Dean’s wounds once they got the glass out. 

Sam took up the back and Kali was between Cecil and Dean. Castiel noticed her hands were shaking violently until Gabriel returned to his weapon form in his hands. Even Kali wasn’t immune to the non-stop fighting. 

Dean tried to keep up a quick pace, tried to blow off his injury, but Castiel refused to go faster than he deemed safe for Dean to move without aggravating his injuries. Cecil continued to narrate what they were doing as they walked, talking in a low murmurer, and though it seemed completely useless, they didn’t seem to run into any more kishin-eggs as they travelled down the side streets and back alleys that one would have expected kishin-eggs to wait for prey. 

“Why are there no kishin-eggs?” Sam hissed forward when they stopped at a corner. Cecil peered out and Sam could have sworn he saw a giant purple eye blink open on Cecil’s forehead. When he blinked and looked again, there was nothing there, and since no one else reacted, Sam didn’t bring attention to it. 

_“I’m using Cecil’s narration to broadcast a ‘keep back’ signal. As long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves, we should be able to stay under their radar,”_ Carlos explained. 

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” Kali asked. “Instead of running up the street like a moron?” 

Cecil glared at her. “I was a little frazzled by that point! It’s hard to concentrate when monsters are over-running your hometown. I saw one of my friends get dragged away into the night! John Peters, you know, the Famer? Didn’t stand a chance….” 

An unholy screeching scream reverberated from overhead, causing all of them to duck back into the alley. “What in the world?!” was uttered by everyone as a huge black shadow flew past down the street with a smaller shadow harassing it. 

They ducked out to see an enormous five-headed dragon chased from what could only be described as a half troll/half gargoyle monster. It was much more agile and faster in flight than Hiram, and it wove forward and back in the same way a boxer in the ring attacks and retreats from an opponent. It was slashing and clawing at Hiram’s scaly side, ducking away and attacking another limb when Hiram whirled around and tried to slash at it or bite it with one of his many heads. 

“Come on!” Cecil said and he made a break across the street towards the radio station. The kids followed suit, Dean shoving aside the pain as adrenaline kicked in and ran with them. 

“Shit!” Sam swore and he fell backwards as another monstrous shape emerged from the shadows cast by the dimly lit streets. More movement started from down the street on both of their sides. They were surrounded by kishin-eggs! 

The meisters huddled up, back’s to each other and ready to fight. Castiel returned to his bladed form, though the pain in Dean’s back was fogging his brain slightly. 

“What do we do?” Sam hissed. 

“You take the ones on the left, I’ll take the ones on the right?” Dean suggested. 

The kishin-eggs started moving towards them with predatory smiles and unnatural speed once they realized there was food to be had. Just as the wall of kishin-eggs moved forward to devour the humans, Sam saw a fleeting glimpse of white behind them, a pair of white-eyes and pale blue eyes watching with glee from the darkness beyond… 

There was another whistling sound behind them, and the huddled meisters dropped to the ground when they saw a shape coming straight at them from the shadowy night. It wasn’t the gargoyle monster diving bombing them, however. 

The rattling of a metal chain caught their attention and they looked up in time to see a monstrous metal chain whip over their heads and strike the kishin-eggs beyond them. Even in the low light and the speed at which the thing moved (almost alive in its speed and accuracy) Sam saw that is was an unholy _weapon_. 

A metal chain, flung about like a whip by an expert hand, but this chain was as thick as his arm and seemingly unending. Each metal link had points coming off them like iron shark’s teeth. He looked back to see the chain ended in a huge barbed meat hook, and it did its gruesome job well as it wrapped around and ripped apart the kishin-eggs coming at them, almost hungrily. 

Within seconds (or hours, which was what Sam felt like with every scream from the kishin-eggs and the whirling of that devilish weapon overhead) the street was empty, quiet. The only evidence of the monsters was their floating souls. 

The meisters got back to their feet, warily looking for the one in the darkness of the street to finally reveal himself. “Get ‘em, boy,” they heard, and a large black dog, the size of a Great Dane but built like a Mastiff bounded forward. It only paused when passing Sam and gave him a look before it went up to the first soul and swallowed it greedily. 

“Good boy,” the voice said again, and when the man finally stepped under a streetlight, Sam was already over his shock. 

“Crowley?” Sam, Meg, and Ruby all asked incredulously, but there was no mistaking the other meister. How many other Meisters used dogs for weapons? Of which there was no mistaking now, seeing the dog swallowing souls left and right. 

“You again. How many times are you brats going to get in my way?” the Irish-speaking man asked in grave irritation. 

“Who are you?” Cecil demanded. 

“And how do you know him?” Dean asked Sam pointedly. 

“I ran into him during my hunt at Vegas,” Sam said with a shrug. 

"Crowley’s the name, thought apparently you need your ears cleaned out because the kid said it already,” the meister said with a huff. He whistled a quick note and his partner, Growly, returned, a kishin-egg’s red soul in its mouth, which he was gnawing on like a chew toy. 

“Don’t play with your food,” Crowley reprimanded, and the dog swallowed with, Sam swore, a roll of its red eyes. 

“That’s impossible,” Kali said, looking at the dog. “Weapons are only humans.” 

“Wow, a know-it-all teenage, how original,” Crowley shot back. 

_“Look, as much fun as this banter is, we need to get inside the station. Before more kishin-eggs show up and filet us alive,”_ Meg’s voice said loudly. 

The kids watched Cecil; his narrowed eyes at Crowley indicated he didn’t exactly know what to do with the man. “You can come inside,” Cecil finally decided. 

“The invitation is touching, but I’ve wasted enough time on you idiots already,” Crowley said, stalking past them up the street to where white and blue eyes had just been. 

“What are they?” Dean asked; Crowley turned to him, an eyebrow perked up. “Excuse me?” 

“They’re not kishin-eggs. What are they?” Dean asked. 

“They?’ I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” Crowley said. 

“Those…people-that-aren’t-actually-people,” Cecil added so very helpfully. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s got your boxers in a bunch, but I’m just here for the souls,” Crowley said, motioning around. “It’s a free-for-all, and I just wanted my fair share. Now go inside and stop thrashing about, you’re distracting the sharks,” he said. Within a blink of an eye both man and dog disappeared into the night. 

Sam paused, a noxious odor assaulting him momentarily. “Is that…rotten eggs?” 

_“Sam, as much as I appreciate your dedication, and as much as I **hate** to say this, this is not the time for a fart joke!”_ Gabriel’s voice came from the flamethrower. 

Dean whipped around to Sam. “--?” 

“Come on,” Cecil said in a hurried tone. “We’ve got to get inside before more show up!” 

~*~ 

The place seemed deserted when they finally got into the radio station and headed straight for the break room. It was the most interior-most room in the building, and (hopefully) the most defensible location. Only one door into the room meant defense would be easy, but escape…not so much. 

Dean sat in a chair and Castiel slowly peeled his leather jacket off and handed it to Meg. The weapon was sitting in an opposite chair and started plucking glass from the leather with deft fingers. Dean groaned when he saw the state of his jacket, but growled when Castiel had to pull a few large slivers from his shoulders. His shirt was shredded but his back wasn’t as scratched up as it could’ve been. The Winchester’s fondness for extra layers had saved himself a lot of grief. 

“So, now what?” Ruby asked the room. 

“That’s the 64 dollar question,” Gabriel muttered. He was looking a little green around the edges, but he played it off. 

“Cecil, Carlos, were you or anyone else able to send word to Lord Death?” Castiel asked. 

The radio broadcaster shook his head. “No. That’s why I was so surprised you showed up. You didn’t bring more people from the DWMA with you?” he asked, the hope in his eyes starting to dim slightly. Carlos, now human, patted Cecil’s hand in a comforting way. 

Silence fell over the room. “We were listening to your show live,” Castiel explained. “We came as soon as you’re broadcasted cut out.” 

“Let’s just call him now,” Ruby suggested. 

“Yeah, Gabe, why don’t you head down to the men’s room and use the mirror in there,” Dean suggested. 

Gabriel blinked. “By myself?” 

“Do you need us to come with you?” Meg said in a mocking tone. Ruby simply huffed her annoyance. 

“I’ll go,” Sam volunteered before Gabriel could snap back at the girls. Gabe looked slightly more relieved. 

“Thanks, Sam. Good to see someone’s been paying attention to the rules of horror movies! Never, ever, go ANYWHERE. _ALONE_ ,” Gabriel emphasized. 

“You’re still here?” Dean growled. He was holding his shirt all the way up his back and was sitting backwards in a chair so Castiel could doctor Dean’s wounds. Dean hissed as Cas pulled several shards from Dean’s back, but they weren’t very deep, nor did they shatter during extraction. Luckily, only a little bit of energy from Cas needed to jumpstart Dean’s scraps into healing completely. He replaced his shirt but his back was still a little tender. 

Gabriel huffed but went out into the hallway quietly, Cecil’s directions fresh in his mind, Sam tagging along. At least Sam understood how the buddy system worked. 

A few tense moments went by until an impressively high shriek caused them all to jump; Dean swore colorfully at the pain that shot through his back. 

“I think there’s a tiny kishin-egg floating next to the sink!” Sam yelled. 

“That’s Khoshekh!” Castiel, Dean, Cecil, and Carlos all answered. 

_“Don’t you dare hurt my cat!”_ Cecil snarled loudly. 

“Um….cat…?” Sam’s voice trailed off, unsure. Dean could imagine the unsure, slow blinks Sam and Gabriel were probably sharing while staring at the floating…cat. 

“Don’t touch!” Carlos cautioned loudly. 

“Yeah, no worries on that,” came Gabriel’s sudden, quieter response. 

“Well, if there were any kishin-eggs in the building, they certainly know where to find us now,” Kali muttered. “Anyone else want to yell at the top of their lungs in case they missed it the first time?” 

There was the sound of footsteps, and Gabriel and Sam returned, looking exceptionally freaked out, though Gabriel just looked ill. 

“Gabriel, are you alright?” Kali asked immediately as he came in and sat on the small couch in the corner of the room. 

“Yeah…fine…” Gabriel said, though it was obvious he was looking rather sick. 

Carlos came over to the weapon, giving him a once over. Sam stood nearby, worry on his face, though he tried to act nonchalant. Carlos looked at Sam. “What happened?” 

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “He got spooked by your, uh, cat, and puked.” 

Gabriel wanted to crawl into the couch and die. _Hell of a first date, the guy I like had to watch me blow chunks. Very attractive,_ he berated himself. 

“Gabriel? Are you okay?” Kali asked, her blunt tone softened slightly as she sat down next to Gabe on the couch. She was scowling, but he wasn’t sure if it was because she was worried about him or what a sick weapon could mean to their survival rate. 

“What have you been doing to the kishin-eggs?” Carlos asked, thinking. 

“Eating them?” Gabriel said. 

“Students aren’t supposed to eat so many soul in one hunt! It can cause nausea, disorientation, weakness…only eating one soul per hunt allows your body the time it takes to adjust to the new energy from the eggs,” Carlos said. 

“Well, what else are we supposed to be doing with them, they seem to resurrect if we don’t eat them!” Gabriel snapped. He shot an accusatory glare at the sisters and Castiel. “Why aren’t you sick?” he demanded. 

“They haven’t consumed as many,” Kali said simply. “You’ve had 21 thus far. Meg had 14, Ruby 15, and Castiel had 17. And yes, I kept track,” she said. 

“21 souls! No wonder you’re ill,” Carlos said in alarm. 

“I’ll be fine,” Gabriel said. He had to be, they wouldn’t survive otherwise. 

“Guys, I don’t want to belittle this, but what happened? Is Lord Death sending help?” Cecil asked gravely. 

Gabriel and Sam looked at each other. “It didn’t work.” they said in tandem. 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, turning to look at them, eyes narrowed. 

“We used the mirror, did the chant and the number and…nothing!” Gabriel said. 

Silence descended over the room as the implications started to sink in. 

“Whatever is going on here is blocking our ability to raise Death’s via mirrors,” Kali summed up. 

Meg looked up at Cecil. “Your mobile set crapped out on you, but do you think you could contact the DWMA from here?” she asked. “Maybe tech still works?” 

Carlos shook his head while holding up his own cell phone. “Whatever’s happening here tonight is preventing us from contacting the outside world. No service, and I have Verizon—even in the sand wastes I get at least _one_ bar of signal.” 

“So, you’re saying we’re completely SOL?” Gabriel asked. He shot a glare at Castiel and Dean. “Thanks, guys, for dragging us all the way out here just to get killed by some crazy lady and her horde of kishin-eggs! Happy Halloween, assholes!” 

“If we’d known…” Castiel started, eyes downcast. 

“Okay, look, this wasn’t as well thought-out as it could’ve been, but we’re Meisters and Weapons. Hunting Kishin-eggs is our job,” Dean said. 

“Not anymore,” Gabriel said stiffly. “If I have to eat one more soul I _will_ hurl. Again.” 

“So, let me get this straight. We’re now stuck in this building, with dozens of monsters crawling all over this town, and there’s no help coming. Did I get all that right?” Ruby asked, looking at everyone with alarm. 

“You forgot the fries, but yeah, that sums it up. We’re screwed,” Sam said. 

No one argued. 


	25. NV Day  of the Dead Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapped in the middle of a kishin-egg filled Night Vale with no back-up or way out...things couldn't get worse, could they?  
> ...of course they can....

**I**

“If I survive this, I’ll never watch another horror movie again, or eat candy, ever again. Man, wish I had a Snickers on me…”

“Snickers? Screw that, I’d kill someone for some fries!”

“Yeah, thanks to you chivalrous morons, we didn’t eat before coming up here. No offense, Clarence.”

“None taken. It’s interesting, isn’t it? Who’d have thought that, in a town boiling over with kishin-egg monsters, we’d die of starvation?” 

“Must you really be so negative? Even Hiram’s Gray Head isn’t as depressing as you are right now.”

“What I want to know is, what is the woman in white?” Dean pondered, pacing back and forth in front of the couch that everyone was slumped on. 

“Give it a rest, Deanie,” Gabriel said. He was looking a little better from earlier. He got up to stretch his legs and started wandering around the small break room. 

“No, listen, if we can figure out what she, it, is, maybe we can figure out a way to beat the kishin-eggs without making you four explode via gluttony,” Dean said. 

“Well, then, Mr. ‘I’m a Hunter, I know everything,’ figure it out yet?” Meg asked. 

“Actually, Dean might be onto something,” Sam said, standing up to face his cousin. “Do you know of any women in white that match this woman’s description?” Sam asked.  
It was first time he’d spoken to Dean almost all night, ever since the store front, and Dean was momentarily unsure how to respond. _If Sam wants to ignore it, fine. We’ll hash this out later,_ Dean promised himself. 

“Women in white? From what I remember, there’s a type of ghost called that,” Dean said, thinking hard. “Usually a woman who commits suicide, but can’t rest. But, I don’t think this is just a pissed off ghost. This thing had a plan, she made a beeline for the ceremony and knew exactly what to do after.” 

“It doesn’t sound like she’s a kishin-egg…” Sam said. “Maybe she’s a witch?” 

Dean shook his head. It was her eyes, her white, pupil-less eyes that were the biggest clue, he knew it, but just didn’t understand it. 

“There’s too many monsters, spirits…I’ve got nothing,” he said in defeat. “Maybe if I had my Dad’s journal, I might be able to…dammit, oh well.”

“Where’s the journal?” Castiel asked. 

“In the glove box of the car,” Dean said. 

Yeah, the faces everyone made told him _that_ little excursion wasn’t going to happen.

“Hey, look what I found!” Gabriel said in delight. Everyone turned to see him holding a packet of animal crackers he had stolen from a small vending machine hidden under a curtain, the handwritten note on its glass face proclaiming it “Out Of Order.”

“Oh, sorry, that’s out of order,” Cecil said with apology. “It’s supposed to spit out live scorpions, but Station Management hasn’t exactly been doing the best job keeping the vending machines properly stocked.”

Gabriel blinked a few times, and backed away slowly from the machine in question, though he refused to let go of the animal crackers. 

Sam whipped around to face Cecil and Carlos. “Cecil, what exactly was the ceremony in the desert supposed to do tonight?” 

“It’s an annual tradition here in Night Vale. A time for everyone to come together and make sure the parallel dimensions of the living and the dead don’t get stuck and allow cross over. On Halloween night the veil between worlds is at its thinnest point, allowing the dead to re-enter our world. The Ceremony is to make sure the door closes like it’s supposed to, so the dead don’t overextend their welcome.” 

“Kali, can I borrow your phone? I need to google something,” Sam said. Kali looked suspiciously at the meister but ended up handing her phone over anyway. 

As Sam typed away on the smartphone, Dean looked at his wrist-watch. “Wow,” he said. “Only 12:01. It’s been a long-ass night,” he said, exhaustion causing him to yawn. 

That’s when the earth started shaking underfoot, violently throwing them to the floor and the things around the break room began to crash and shatter. 

“What the hell now!” Dean yelped. A thunderous sound roared around them, and the tiled floor of the break room started to crack and separate right in front of the couch. The kids leapt off the back of the couch away from the growing crack, which was now a four foot wide swirling vortex. 

Carlos looked at Cecil, both still on the couch like nothing strange or potentially dangerous was happening right in front of them. “I thought you said Station Management fixed the bottomless pit?” Carlos asked. 

“Ugh, they did! That’s what we get for hiring a contractor without checking their Yelp reviews first,” Cecil bemoaned. 

Black things started crawling up the holes edge. “Oh, there’s the scorpions!” Cecil said.

Following the scorpions came a grunting groan and a human hand, rotting and corpse-like, reached over the edge, pulling up a very dead human over the lip of the pit. 

Now Cecil looked concerned. “Intern Chad! I haven’t seen in you a while. You’re looking a little more—corporeal—then I remember the Dead usually being when they visit on Halloween,” he said. 

More people were pulling themselves up from the pit, as well as the continuing wave of skittering, black scorpions that glowed softly in the dimly lit break room. 

“There’s zombies crawling out of the floor!” Ruby yelped. 

“Yes, there _is_ something off with the Interns,” Cecil said, tapping his chin and thinking without the least bit of concern that several undead were stumbling towards them. 

“Why are you not freaking out?!” Gabriel demanded of Cecil and Carlos. 

“It’s Night Vale?” Carlos suggested. 

Dean and Carlos grabbed the wooden bar that had been placed across the doorway as a lock and threw it across the room, taking out another Night Vale Radio Intern. “Sorry, Jeremy!” Cecil told the zombie as its head was sent sailing back into the bottomless pit. Other interns were shambling towards them, teeth sharpened and eyes white in death. 

The group ran down the corridor and came across the hallway were Station Management’s door was. “We need to get to the roof! That’s probably the only place left that’s safe!” Dean said. 

Cecil glanced at the door, then down the hallway behind them to see the shuffling, unfortunate interns. “Station Management’s not going to like this,” he said. “Once you’re fired, they don’t like to give second chances!” 

“Run already!” Castiel hissed, racing past the door. The group ran past the door full-speed; the black, shapeless form in the opaque window suddenly started writhing at the noise. Cecil looked horrified.

Castiel took the initiative. “Station Management!” he yelled at the door to the left after everyone was past it. “You’re previously fired interns are attempting to resurrect themselves and return to their posts,” Castiel yelled again. 

The writhing black mass beyond the door let out an impressive howl that made them momentarily dizzy. The door actually opened, and Station Management emerged. Instead of attacking the retreating meisters and weapons, it turned its attention to the zombies shuffling down the hallway. From the unnatural hisses and shrieks they heard, the job negotiation was not going well for the dead interns. 

“Up there!” Cecil pointed up to the fire-ladder that led up to the roof. The kids climbed up and were able to push the door open, spilling out onto the station’s roof, thankfully kishin-egg and zombie free. Cecil and Carlos shut the door and locked it, and they were exposed to the chilling night wind blowing through the town. The kishin-egg screams and shrieks from earlier now had another noise mixed in—the groaning, slow shuffling of the undead. 

“What the flying hell is happening?” Gabriel asked, peeking over the edge of the roof to see zombies starting to appear in the streets below. Not as numerous as the kishin-eggs, but still too many to fight at once. 

“I think I know,” Sam said, panting slightly. The group huddled into the middle of the roof, underneath the broadcast antennae that stood two stories tall over them. 

“Don’t leave us in suspense,” Meg snapped. 

“Now, this is all just a theory, and thought I’ve got no idea what the woman in white is, I’m pretty sure I know what is happening now. I think that woman reversed the spell, and instead of closing the doorway between worlds, she ripped it open, and allowed something to come through,” Sam said. 

“Like what?” Dean asked. 

“I think we’re dealing with the _actual_ Samhain. The _actual_ King of Halloween,” Sam said. He pulled Kali’s phone from his pocket and showed them a picture of the supposed creature. It looked like a normal human, but its eyes were pale blue.

“Just like the Hooded Figure!” Cecil said. 

“From what I can gather, Samhain isn’t just a ghost or superstition. It looks like he’s the Daddy Demon of all things Dead,” Sam said. He sounded more fascinated than frightened. 

“Wait, demon?” Dean said. The light bulb clicked on in his mind. “The smoke! I got thrown off because of the color. I’ve only seen one demon sent back to the basement, but its true form is this thick, black fog. White smoke, though? Must be reserved for the more powerful ones,” he said. 

“So, get this. Samhain has the ability to _raise the dead_. And at midnight tonight it changed from Halloween to another holiday. The Day of the Dead.”

“So, the zombies?” Ruby asked, and Sam nodded. 

“What about the kishin-eggs?” Kali asked. 

“They must’ve been the ones that have died over the years here,” Carlos said. “That’s the only thing that makes sense. Night Vale has acted for a training ground for students for years. And Night Vale’s had kishin-egg problems since its founding, about 300 years ago.” 

“That’s a lot of kishin-eggs…” Gabriel said. 

“I bet that’s why the kishin-eggs resurrect if they aren’t harvested,” Castiel said, thinking. “With Samhain’s influence, he can just keep bringing them back.”

“So, as long as Samhain and the woman in white are still out there, there’s nothing we can do to take out the kishin-eggs, or the zombies, permanently,” Sam summed up. 

“Well, then, if Samhain is a demon, then exorcising him should work,” Dean said. “Once he’s gone, we can work on the kishin-eggs.”

“No, the tear is still open,” Cecil said, shaking his head. “If we don’t close that, Samhain will just come back through without hesitation. Maybe even bring something nastier with him.” 

“The ceremony needs to be completed,” Castiel said. He looked at Cecil, shooting that soul-searing stare at the radio host. “You will help us complete it.”

Cecil blinked. “What? I can’t do that, I’m just a radio broadcaster! I have not been trained in portal-closing ceremonies of old, those should be left to the professionals.”

“The only ‘professional’ we have is being ridden by the nastiest demon I’ve ever heard of,” Dean said. 

“Cecil, you can do this. You know everything that’s happening in or around Night Vale. You’ve been covering the Ceremony for as long as you’ve hosted ‘Welcome to Night Vale.’ You know the words, the intonations, you know it,” Castiel said, tapping the side of his head. “We’ll follow your lead. Use Carlos to broadcast the spell across the town.”

“I think you’re taking my hosting abilities a little too far, Cas…” Cecil said. 

Sam tapped his own forehead, where he’d seen the eye earlier. “You know this stuff,” Sam said vaguely. “If this doesn’t work, we’re all screwed. You have to try!”

“He’s right, Cecil. This is own home. We’ve gotta stand up for it,” Carlos said to his boyfriend. 

“Let’s say I manage to remember all those chants and incantations,” Cecil said. “That still leaves us with the problem of actually dealing with the kishin-eggs and the possible demonic entity now roaming around town!”

“I got an idea about that,” Dean said suddenly. “Can you tap into a town-wide PA system from this thing?” he said quickly, pointing up the antennae. 

“In theory,” Cecil said slowly, unsure. 

“Cas, you and me have to make a run back to my car,” Dean said suddenly. “I have an idea to kill two birds with one stone,” he said, motioning for Castiel to follow him. 

“You can’t kill zombies!” Meg said, motioning towards Cas. “Only kishin-eggs! If you get attacked, you’re screwed!” 

“We’ll move fast,” Dean promised. When he explained where he’d left the car, Cecil thankfully pointed out they were only a couple blocks away. Castiel’s face was impassive, but Meg thought she noticed a slight crease of nervousness on his forehead. Still, Cas didn’t raise any objection—he always did as Dean asked. 

“We’ll be back!” Dean said in his best Terminator voice before he and Castiel disappeared, and Cecil started barking orders at the students to help him set up. 

Hopefully the plan would work. Otherwise, the chances of them surviving were down to single digits.

~*~

Dean clambered back up the fire escape twenty minutes later looking exceptionally sweaty but exhilarated. “Never thought I’d get the chance to outrun a zombie horde, and it’s not as much fun as it looks in the movies,” he said when he pulled himself onto the roof. 

“Did you get what you needed?” Sam asked, plainly curious what Dean had made the dangerous excursion for. 

Dean held up a leather-bound journal. “Good old Dad and Rufus. Wrote down everything they’d figured I’d need to know about hunting. Including…” Dean flipped towards the middle of the book and showed a Latin paragraph to Sam. “…An exorcism spell!” 

“That’s great, but we have no idea where Samhain is,” Sam said. 

“We don’t need to. Like I said before, two birds with one stone,” Dean said. He, Castiel, and Sam returned to Cecil, who was hooking Carlos up to the town’s P.A. system with the help of the others. 

“Dean, you survived!” Gabriel said. “Guess I owe Sam $20.” 

“Come on, Gabe, never bet against a Winchester!” Dean said with bravado.

“It seems that whatever magic that has befallen our beloved town is preventing us from contacting outsiders. However, I think communication within the town is still a possibility. So, Carlos should be able to transmit everything I broadcast all over Night Vale,” Cecil said. 

“Perfect!” Dean said. “Give me two minutes.” He walked over to the edge of the rooftop and flipped open the journal to the marked page, though no one heard him speak. 

“Do you really think this will work?” Ruby asked Sam. 

The boy shrugged. “Not like we’ve got another option.”

Dean jogged back up to them and shoved a small digital voice recorder into Cecil’s hand. “Two birds, one stone,” he said with a triumphant grin. “While we do the ceremony, play that in the background. We’ll close the tear, and that exorcism spell will send any demons in town that hears it packing back to the Pit.” 

“That’s brilliant,” Cas said. He was about to say more when everyone gathered had to drop to the rooftop so their head wasn’t knocked off by the troll/gargoyle kishin-egg that flew overhead; Hiram was nowhere to be seen. 

“Meg!” Sam yelled as the Gargoyle made a turn and dived for them again. He leapt up and smacked the kishin-egg away with Meg, and watched at it tumbled across the roof and fell over the rooftop into the alley below. Sam ran over to the rooftop’s edge and peered over just in time to see the kishin-egg almost fly into his face, but was jerked back to the ground by the familiar hellish chain-whip. 

The kishin-egg landed on the street with a WHUMP and the chain transformed back into Growly. The dog darted forward and literally ripped the kishin-egg apart with a ferocity that made Sam almost sick to his stomach. It wasn’t until the dog swallowed the egg that Crowley looked up and finally saw Sam peering down at him. 

Sam took a breath and leapt over the edge of the rooftop. While the fall might have hurt a normal human, Sam was made of sterner stuff. He landed in front of the less-than-impressed looking meister. 

“What, do I smell good or something? Sorry, kid, you’re not my type. I prefer ones a little less jail-baity,” Crowley quipped. 

Sam managed to ignore the urge to flush his cheeks. “Look, we’ve figured out what’s going on. If you come up to the roof, we’ve got a plan to end this whole thing.”

“Plan? What plan? What’s going on?”

“We’re pretty sure it’s a demon, named Samhain,” Sam said, motioning towards the town. “He’s the reason for the kishin-eggs, and the zombies currently running around. We’re going to close the tear and exorcise him. That should stop the kishin-eggs from constantly resurrecting themselves. Will you help us?”

Crowley shook his head, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Demons? Yeah, right. Demons and kishin-eggs are cats and dogs, and have nothing to do with each other.”

“Well, they do here in Night Vale,” Sam said in exasperation. A crackling sound of static spurted from the speakers on the telephone pole down the alley way, and Cecil’s voice came over the radio. 

“Listeners, if you are still alive and able to understand me, I, and several students from the DWMA, have a plan to try and save our town. Keep yourselves barricaded in your chosen siege-protection place, and do not exit that place until I tell you otherwise!” 

“Sam! Sam, where the hell are you, Sam!” Dean’s voice yelled from the top of the roof. Sam looked up to see Dean looking at him. “Get your ass up here, Sam!” 

Sam opened his mouth to say something but he noticed he was alone in the alleyway. There was no sign of the weapon-dog or the strange meister, except for a lingering odor of expensive cologne and a tinge of rotten eggs. Sam scowled, knowing something wasn’t right with the picture, but had no time to dwell on it further. He climbed up the fire escape back to the roof as fast as humanly possible. 

“What were you doing down there?” Dean demanded. 

“Finishing off the kishin-egg,” Sam lied easily. 

They ran back to the group. The other students were surrounding Cecil, who was holding onto Carlos’ microphone form tightly as to not tremble, and his eyes were closed. 

“Close your eyes and repeat after me,” Cecil said slowly, voice low. Sam, Dean, and Meg joined the circle, though Sam peeked through a slotted eye to see the large purple eye open on Cecil’s forehead…

The words that poured from the radio host’s lips immediately sent a chill up each teenager’s spine. These words weren’t words, they were spoken elements. A hurricane compressed into a few guttural and whimsical noises from the human larynx. An exploding sun poorly explained in an alien tongue that no one could wrap their mind around. Sam, who considered himself fairly smart, found his mind racing with ideas and images no human could comprehend, all the while trying to make his tongue and lips form these weird, impossible syllables. 

The only thing that anchored him was the murmuring in the background. An incessant sound, like the itch of a bug bite, it kept him from losing his grip on reality altogether. Though he couldn’t understand the noise, he knew what it was. Latin, spoken in Dean’s voice, that was the anchor keeping Sam going. As long as he could hear the recorded exorcism playing in the background of Cecil’s low, inhuman chanting, he could remember where he was. Night Vale, trying to save it from monsters. He was Sam Winchester, a meister. Two girls were his weapons. Dean was supposed to be his cousin, his family, but he couldn’t remember that part, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how guilty Dean’s saddened face made him feel, he couldn’t remember that. 

The winds that had been blowing in gently from the desert changed into powerful, gale-like winds that were pulling him, all of them, backwards, towards the wastes. Sam opened his eyes to see the others looking disconcerted as well, but they never stopped uttering the strange words that Cecil was spouting. It was then that Sam realized that he was still speaking, but he wasn’t thinking about the words. There was a disconnect between his mind and his mouth, and he was no longer in control of the words being spoken—the kids were not repeating what Cecil said anymore, he was speaking through them. 

A flash of light and a scream came from the wastes. Black clouds swirled overhead, blocking out the stars, and myriads of voices assaulted them, carried on the winds buffeting them. 

The woman in white was there, on the rooftop, looking angry and dangerous, but Sam’s body didn’t react in surprise, didn’t stop speaking, though he was certainly surprised. Her dress was white, her hair was blonde, and her eyes were white and angry. 

She held up her hand at them, a dangerous smirk on her face, but it suddenly dropped away, replaced with terror. Sam’s eyes (everyone’s eyes) darted up, and hovering over Cecil was….a….

It was stretched out, tall. Long limbs, bluish-black skin. Many eyes on a featureless face. Wings, many, many wings, and black light (not shadow, light) somehow visible even in the dead of night, beamed from the creature. Golden lights in the shape of symbols were carved into its wings, it’s forehead over the eyes. 

_Be gone_ , the creature commanded, and bells went off in Sam’s head. Everyone’s head, for everyone reacted except for Cecil to the ringing sound, so pure it was painful to the ear. _These are the chosen ones._

“You don’t scare me!” The woman in white yelled but shrank back, away from the visage, and she stood her ground. “You can’t touch me here in this town, choir boy!” 

_I am Erika_ , the creature said. _We have chosen. You will fail._

The creature’s many eyes bored into Sam, and he felt like every cell of his body was being scrutinized, like his soul was being inspected, his life weighed. 

_You have been chosen_ , Erika said to him, to all of them. 

The same thought was on everyone’s minds. 

Chosen…for what? 

_The time for war will be upon us, and you will be called upon once again to fight._  
“Go ahead and put your faith in a bunch of pre-pubescent idiots,” the woman in white sneered. “It’ll make it that much sweeter when I break them open later.”

With an irritated wave of Erika’s hand, the woman’s body dissolved into a cloud of white smoke, which zoomed off into the desert and disappeared. The winds stopped, Cecil’s words slowed down and fell away, trickling off. The creature, Erika, hovering overhead, fixed its gaze upon each teenager. 

_Do not fail._

The thing disappeared like a bad hallucination just as the swirling cloud overhead broken apart to reveal the sun breaking over the horizon.

**II**

“Sam? Sammy! Come you, you alright?” asked an insistent voice. 

When someone started shaking him, Sam groaned. “Leave me alone, Ruby,” he muttered.

“Carlos, I think he hit his head a lot harder than we thought,” said the voice again, but it was definitely a guy’s drawl.

Sam cracked open his eyes, blinking a few times until Dean and Carlos became clear in his vision. He was lying on his back on the roof, and they were staring at him in concern. When did I fall down? Was all he could think of at that moment. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living!” Dean quipped; Sam caught the relieved sigh he hid under the sarcasm. For once, the protectiveness didn’t bother him. 

“What happened?” Sam asked, sitting up to find the others also sitting up and looking confused. Sam looked up to see the sun was fully up now, but his forehead creased in confusion when his eyes locked over one particular spot over their heads. It was as if he was expecting something to be there, and was confused when it wasn’t. He felt a little less silly when Dean mirrored his scowl. 

“Yeah, I don’t get it, either,” Dean simply said, shaking his head. 

“Near as we can tell, your crazy plan worked!” Carlos said with excitement. 

“How do you know?” Dean asked. 

“The Faceless Old Woman who Secretly Lives in Your Home is texting me updates,” Cecil said, holding up his cell phone just as it dinged. _“Woman in white gone. Hooded Figure is out front of Big Rico’s, wandering like a lost child. 2 other H.Fs have arrived and are escorting it to the Dog Park.”_

“Um, I think the more important question is, what do we do about the horde of zombies trapped in the building underneath us?!” Gabriel asked. 

Cecil’s phone dinged. _“Station Management fired the interns. Again,”_ Cecil read aloud. 

“We don’t know what sent the woman in white packing, but normal communications have been restored. I was able to call Lord Death,” Carlos said. “Death Scythe is on his way to help clean up the town. We won, guys!”

Cecil’s words fell on deaf ears. Sam could see the confusion on everyone faces. He looked up at the sky and…why did he feel like he was missing something? He only remembered the chanting and then…nothing. 

Why did he feel like something was watching him? Unseen, unremembered? He shook his head, and by the way the others were holding their heads, they must have felt the same way. 

~*~

Most of Night Vale’s citizens woke up in their beds, ‘re-spawned’ as kishin-egg victims always did in Night Vale, and per usual, no one remembered a thing. Only the Meisters, the Weapons, and the Electoral Candidates knew what had happened during the night. 

A few people, unfortunate victims of the zombies, stayed deceased. The deaths were blamed on overzealous deceased family visiting from the Other Side.

The kishin-eggs that were not collected by the students or Crowley were harvested by older meisters Scythe had follow him to town. All in all, despite the horrors of the night, life in the town of Night Vale continued on per usual.

~*~  
They sat in front of Death and told their tale to the silent Reaper, each adding to the narrative as he or she saw fit. Despite the bone-weary exhaustion, each student was feeling very proud of the way they handled the situation. Night Vale was safe once more. 

When all was said and done, Death hummed to himself for a few moments, clearly thinking. 

“That was incredibly reckless and stupid!” Spirit said. “You’re lucky your carelessness didn’t get yourselves killed,” the Death Scythe said angrily. 

“Carelessness!” Dean snapped, rubbing his head. “If it wasn’t for us, Night Vale would be nothing but a graveyard right now!” 

The Scythe held up a finger to shush him. “Cecil and Carlos are both graduates of this Academy. They could have handled the situation on their own long enough for you to have come tell me or Lord Death what you heard on the radio. Instead, you went off into a dangerous situation without the proper training or back-up.”

“We did attempt to contact you once we realized the extent of the situation,” Castiel said, trying to placate the weapon. Lord Death simply took in the scene without adding to it.

“You are the best meisters in your class, but you are not trained for these types of situations,” Scythe said sternly. “You put your friends in grave danger, for no reason, Dean.”

“We chose to go with them,” Sam said. “And we handled ourselves just fine.”

“There was too much that could have gone wrong! Going into a dangerous situation like this without the proper intel can lead to disastrous consequences.”

“Well, excuse me for not just sitting on my butt while people died,” Dean said angrily. “When a Hunter in on a case, we don’t always have the full picture, but we do what we can anyway. We don’t have the luxury to wait around for backup, when people start dying, we _act_.”

There were several seconds of surprised silence from everyone in the room. Even Lord Death looked surprised at the outburst. Well, as surprised as a skull could look.

“That’s your problem. You need to stop thinking like a Hunter, Dean. You’re at the DWMA as a Meister, and you have to start obeying the rules and procedures we have in place,” Spirit said harshly. The weapon looked at the Reaper. “I’d suggest a 30-day suspension from kishin-egg hunting.” 

“WHAT?!” Ruby and Meg yelped at once. Kali looked like she was going to strangle the Death Scythe, and Dean looked pissed. 

“That’s not fair!” Gabriel said. “We saved a town and we get punished for it?” 

The seven students looked at Death, who seemed to be mulling over everything. 

“Spirit does have a point,” The Grim Reaper said in his nasally voice. “You did go out and put yourselves in a perilous situation. For that, you will be punished.” 

_THWACK!!!_ The teenagers were left reeling from the Grim Reaper’s signature Reaper Chop. 

“That’s for being reckless,” Lord Death said. “However, I think that’s a sufficient punishment. You did do something incredibly stupid, but being a Weapon or a Meister is all about helping others, no matter the cost to ourselves. Last night you showed incredible courage and quick-thinking, and for that you can keep the souls you collected.”

“Thank you, Death,” they all said in tandem, while shooting Scythe dangerous glares.

“However, I do think the month-long suspension might be a good thing,” the Reaper said. He held up his over-sized hands just as they were about to bicker with him. “Last night someone attacked Night Vale, and we don’t know the reasoning for the attack, and they know you were the ones who thwarted those plans. Laying low might be the best option for you, kids.”

“Let ‘em try and get us!” Meg said. “We’re from the DWMA, we can take on anyone! Seven kids defeated them last night, that’ll make them think twice.”

“I don’t think this was an attack aimed at us,” Sam said. “The DWMA, I mean. Nor do I think the town was directly the target.” 

“Yes, it doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Castiel added. “Why attack a town with kishin-eggs when there’s a weapon/meister pair living there, and it’s got a direct line to the DWMA in case of emergencies?”

“We can partially thank the City Council and the Town Founders for that,” Death admitted. “When Night Vale was founded, the Town Founders placed up very powerful magic barriers to prevent most types of disaster from befalling the town. Natural disasters, demonic or angelic intervention, and alien-created plagues are some of the things that cannot harm the town nor her citizens. Kishin-eggs, for some reason, are still able to cause havoc.”

“I think this was a message. A show of power,” Kali said. “They knew that, one way or another, the DWMA would step in and stop the carnage. But, it was the _scope_ of the attack was the impressive part.” 

The Grim Reaper nodded. “Yes, all good points. Ones we were considering. Besides this woman in white who was able to summon Samhain, were there any other strangers in Night Vale?”

Dean nodded. “That guy, Sam. What’s his name? The guy with the dog.”

“Crowley,” Sam said after a hesitant second. “He had a dog for a weapon, and said he was a meister not affiliated with the DWMA. He didn’t seem really concerned about what was happening, though. If that was about him and her, wouldn’t he have acted less…casual about it?”

Death Scythe and Lord Death shared a look at that. 

“You’re dismissed, kids. Next time, tell someone before you decided to go gallivanting into the night, okay?” Lord Death said, and everyone nodded, leaving the reaper and the weapon alone in Death’s office. 

“You think they were onto something?” Spirit asked. 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense so far. Crowley…we’ve never had a meister by that name,” Death said, scowling. “How many souls did you estimate were missing?”

“After counting the numbers the students collected and how many we harvested, we estimated there were about 40-45 souls missing from what we should have collected, if every kishin-egg in Night Vale’s history was resurrected last night, which is what looks like what happened.”

“So, the question is, who took 40-45 souls, and for what purpose?” Death asked. 

~*~

“You don’t just take it upon yourself to attack a kishin-egg while in someone else’s _personal vehicle_ ,” Dean finished, breathing heavy because he hadn’t paused to breathe much in the past few minutes. “That’s destruction of property! My Dad and my uncle are going to _kill_ me when they have to make the trip out here to fix her up again, do you have any idea how far away South Dakota _is_?”

Kali wasn’t listening, she was busy writing something down on a piece of paper pressed on Gabriel’s back, as they stood in the hallway of the DWMA, Dean unable to quell his anger about the mistreatment of the Chevelle. At least it wasn’t the Impala. He would’ve already decked Kali for that.

“I really hope you’re taking notes,” Dean growled. 

“I really hoped you shut up,” Ruby growled. 

“If someone shot through your fuel tank, you’d be pissed too, don’t make me out to be the crazy one.”

“Here,” Kali said, giving the sheet of paper to Dean. When he really looked at it, he realized with a start it was a check. “Is that enough for a new windshield?” she asked.

“Uh…..yeah. New windshield….new paint job…new tires…and a new transmission…” _Hell, this is a new car!_ “I think you added an extra zero. Or two.”

“Never say I didn’t do anything for you, Dean,” Kali said. “Done ranting yet?”

“Oh, yeah, yep, nothing to say here,” he said, still in shock, as he carefully pocketed the check. 

“So, uh….Happy Halloween?” Gabriel quipped.


	26. A Deal's a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate, Sam seeks help from an unusual source...hopefully it doesn't lead him to making a stupid decision.

It had taken several weeks of preparation, of late-night research and several trips to the library alone and under the cover of night. It had taken a few weeks to get all the supplies together—he had to visit a few different apothecary shops in Death City, and he may or may not have “borrowed” a few ingredients from the Academy itself. Finally, _finally_ , he was ready; the knot in his stomach, which had been a constant ache all day (if not the past several days) only seemed to grow as darkness fell over the city.

Once it was night, he made his way down empty alleys and side streets out of the city, out into the desert that surrounded Death City. The backpack on his back was packed with everything he had carefully gathered, and even included food, water, and extra clothes. The cold desert night nipped at his face and fingers, but as he was wearing pretty much everything he owned in layers, he felt warm enough. 

Since Ruby and Meg were at the Academy practicing how to fight using each other (a tough thing to practice since sibling weapons either cancelled each other out or naturally repelled each other, hence the need for a Meister), he could’ve used one of their bikes to get to the spot he had decided to make his destination, a few miles outside of the city. However, that would’ve prompted questions, and he didn’t want unnecessary attention. He had managed to do everything without raising the suspicions of his friends, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

It was familiar, walking, feeling the weight of a heavy backpack on his shoulders and the uneven ground under his feet as he left the main roadway and headed into the foothills. He was used to walking to get to places; John wasn’t exactly a man who ferried his kid around like a soccer mom. Sam had learned early in life walking was usually the fastest (and only) way to get anywhere, whether it was a grocery store or laundromat or local bar. 

His feet started to hurt slightly, and after checking his map he realized he was almost halfway there. He hadn’t walked this much since his last night with John. There had been an argument, typical for the Winchesters, and Sam had walked out. Walked out of the motel, out of the town, away from his father with the bloodshot eyes, paranoia, and alcoholic breath. John didn’t follow him, didn’t try to stop his fifteen year old son from leaving, he just sat on the end of his bed with his shoulders slumped and head down. “I tried my best,” were John’s last words to Sam. 

Sam’s hand curled into a fist and an angry sigh turned into a puff of fog as he continued walking. His best? Right, because raising his kid in sketchy motel rooms and living off fast food and what he could get his hands on for free was ‘his best.’ Sam had learned early on to watch out for himself, and his moral compass was a little more skewed than, say, his perfect cousin Dean.

Dean, who was the smartest kid in the class. Dean, who knew about every monster that ever existed. Dean, who single-handedly stopped the carnage at Night Vale. Wasn’t there anything Dean was _bad_ at? 

Dean, who may or may not even be his cousin because Sam’s earliest memories were fuzzy recollections of motels and the constant unshaven stubble on John’s face. He didn’t even know what his mother looked like. 

His skewed moral compass was leading him into the hills, a small flashlight helping him navigate small rocks and hills. The Night Vale incident had planted the idea, but the straw that broke the camel’s back was the fact that Ruby and Meg, his own weapons, were attempting to figure out a way to use each other without him. They claimed it was so, if they got separated, they could fend for themselves but Sam saw right through that pile of crap. 

They knew he couldn’t do the job himself, and after having his ass saved so many times, he had to be honest with himself: they were right. 

He had an idea on how to become stronger, on how to become the Meister the girls deserved, a meister even his perfect cousin Dean had to respect as an equal. He even had an idea on who to go to for help. Whether the plan would work, whether his weeks of careful planning would bear fruit, was still unclear. 

Finally, the small canyon came into view as he crested the last hill. It was small, the canyon itself only about fifty feet high and a few hundred feet long, but it would work. It was a small, hidden place away from prying eyes, and that’s what Sam needed. 

He picked his way into the canyon until it widened into a small clearing about fifty feet across, enough room for his to set up. He dug out a series of folded up paper and looked at the careful sketches he’d painstakingly drawn from old books, and one sketch he managed to copy from Dean’s own journal. It had been a headache trying to grab the journal f  
from Dean’s apartment and returning it without getting caught, but he managed just fine. The final thing he pulled free from the bag was a can of spray paint. 

Despite his unease, Sam had to concede with Mother Nature and make a small fire off to the side. He didn’t want the risk of someone spotting the smoke and coming to investigate, but his fingers kept freezing up after holding the button down on the can too long, and he couldn’t afford to waste paint or make a mistake on the sigils he was creating. 

Sam didn’t allow himself to contemplate the number of Academy violations he’d gone through, and that was just in getting set-up. If this actually worked…well, getting expelled from the DWMA would be the _least_ of his worries. 

An hour later, in the dead of night, the diagram was painted on the rocky ground and Sam had finished putting all of the spell’s ingredients in a bowl. All he had to do was light the ingredients and say a few words, but he paused, momentarily unsure. Did he actually want to do this? So much could go wrong, he might not even walk out of the canyon alive. What would his friends do, say? What about Dean, his supposed family? 

_John was my only family_ , the darker part of his mind whispered, drowning out the parts that made him laugh, made him smile, made him easy-going and friendly. _Family is weakness, it’s pain and heartache. I’ve worked too long for this. I have to try._

Sam steeled himself with a breath, dropped the lit match into the bowl, and breathed in the exotic ingredients. He made sure to speak the spell clearly, loudly, and without error. As the last syllable echoed its way down the dark canyon, Sam held his breath unconsciously, unsure what would happen. 

A cough from the darkness outside of the small fire’s light made him whip around, and a familiar figure watched him with curious and surprised, narrowed eyes. 

“I’d say I’m surprised, but I’d be lying. You always struck me as being the smartest one of the bunch, Mooseling.” Crowley said smugly, a smirk on his face. He was wearing his usual knee-length pea coat, as if to protect himself from the cold night but Sam knew that elements meant little to the thing standing before him. 

Sam glanced around, and Crowley chuckled. “Oh, I promise, Growly’s around. Whether or not you’ll see him before he rips your throat out remains to be seen. Depends on why exactly I’m here.”

Sam unconsciously swallowed when he realized that his plan was about to fall apart, but he tried to keep an impassive look on his face. 

Crowley looked around him and chuckled. “Oh, sorry ‘bout that. If only I’d shown up about 5 feet to the left, you’d have had me right where you wanted me,” Crowley said, snapping his fingers in a mocking way. “Oops.” 

Crowley had appeared mere steps away from the Devil’s Trap Sam had painstakingly painted on the rocky floor of the canyon. 

“Oh well. Can’t get it all right the first time,” Crowley said with a winning smile, but Sam only saw a gnashing of teeth. 

“You’re a demon!” Sam blurted out. Of all the things he had come up with to say, of course he’d go with the stupidest one. He physically winced. 

“Well, yes, I suppose we’ve already established that,” Crowley said, looking down at himself. 

“But, you’re a meister…how?”

“Everyone has to have a hobby. Now then, the reason for this meeting must be a real _doozy_ for you to put yourself at such risk to summon me here.” Crowley carefully edged around the Devil’s Trap and slowly circled the young teenager like a shark. The summoning was unexpected, the runt on the other end of the line even more so. Crowley decided to drag this out a little longer; he liked surprises, and this kid was certainly full of them.

“What gave me away?” Crowley asked as he circled closer, trying to figure out the kid’s angle. 

“The rotten egg smell,” Sam admitted. “Dean told me that sulfur smells like that, which is oftentimes left behind when demons are around. And the fact that you disappeared almost as soon as I said we were going to exorcise Samhain.”

“Let me get this straight. You broke a dozen rules from your precious DWMA and decided to summon a _demon_ , by _yourself_ , in the middle of _nowhere_ , to satisfy your sense of curiosity? Sam, I’m starting to think that you may be the _stupidest_ person I’ve ever met.”

Sam huffed, his temper starting to overrule his caution. “I didn’t summon you here for you to insult me,” he said. 

“They why am I standing here, boy? I’ve got more important things to do than babysit you,” Crowley said, allowing his eyes to flash red. The boy took a frightened step back at that, but immediately composed himself and stood strong. Or, tried to. Unfortunately, Sam was a scrawny kid of 16 with lanky arms, legs, and was only 5’6”. Crowley was able to look down at him smugly.

Sam hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I need something.”

Ah, those magic words never ceased to make the demon sigh. “Really?” Crowley purred. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Samuel. A Crossroads demon can make anything happen, give you anything you want. Fame. Money. A normal childhood with a mom and dad just like everyone else.”

Sam closed his eyes at that one, and Crowley grinned, decided to prod a little more. “A normal, stationary, loving, family where your mother is alive and bakes you cookies, and your father isn’t a paranoid, alcoholic ass, dragging you from stained motel room to motel room across the county--”

“Stop,” Sam said, gritting his teeth, hands curled into fists shaking with anger. 

“Sorry, did I hit a nerve?” Crowley asked smugly. “My apologies. So, what is it that you do want, Sam?”

“I wanted to know if something was true,” Sam started. 

“Information costs, munchkin,” Crowley said simply. 

“Well, why don’t you tell me anyway? It’s not like you’re going anywhere,” Sam said, his fearful look suddenly replaced by one of triumph. 

Crowley frowned and looked down, but he was still several feet away from the Devil’s Trap on the rocky ground. “Excuse me?”

Sam smirked and motioned behind the demon. Crowley whipped around and groaned in frustration, for painted on the other wall of the canyon, cleverly hidden behind a few stringy bushes and out of the sight of the firelight, was another Devil’s Trap. A little less intricate than the one on the ground, it was still meticulously painted. Crowley took another step forward, intent on strangling this know-it-all, but he hit an invisible wall. 

“I hate meticulous planners,” Crowley growled. 

“After going through all this trouble, there was no way I was going to leave anything to chance,” Sam said smugly. 

“You’ve proven you’re point, you little flea. What is it that you want?” Crowley asked in annoyance. 

Sam knew he was slightly safer now that Crowley was trapped, but he was still healthily nervous. He spoke as fast as possible before he lost his nerve completely. “Can demon blood actually make demon weapons stronger?”

Crowley looked surprised. “Where on earth did you get that thought, Mooseling?”

_Why the hell does everyone give me these weird ass nicknames!_ Sam thought in irritation. “First off, it’s Sam.”

“Considering I could drag you to Hell with barely a thought, getting sassy with me is not in your best interest, _Sam_ ,” Crowley said conversationally, but Sam swallowed loudly.

“Well…I found a book that mentioned the idea,” Sam said simply, keeping any more wiseass remarks to himself. “Is it true?”

Crowley tapped his chin in thought. “Well, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? Considering demon weapons are powered by negative emotions, and demons are the embodiment of those emotions, I suppose it would work.”

“You mean you have no idea,” Sam said, unsure how to feel. Part of him felt relieved, but mostly he was irritated. All these weeks of work, wasted!

“I just saying no one’s tried it in the field,” Crowley said with a shrug. 

“I will,” Sam said simply. “I’ll try it.”

“Will you, now?” Crowley asked, eyebrows high. “Why would you want to do that…?”

The demon’s eyes roamed over Sam for a moment, and he nodded in understanding. “ _Oh_ , I see. You’re tired of your friends thinking you can’t handle yourself. Your very weapons are training without you, and you can’t stand it, can you? After what happened in Night Vale, you thought you’d proven yourself. Instead, all you did was prove you’re not cut out to be a Meister. It’ll be back to motels and dear old John for you, if Death figures out what a terrible failure you are,” the demon said smoothly, pointing out ever fear and worry that had been plaguing the boy for weeks. 

“So, you want demon blood to make yourself stronger, better than everyone else. You want to prove you don’t need anyone’s help; you’re perfectly fine on your own. Noble ambitions for a teenager,” Crowley said. 

“It doesn’t matter why. The point is, can you give me some?” Sam asked, staying on point. 

Crowley sighed as if about to deliver bad news. “Sorry, kid, but demons aren’t genies. No three wishes here. What we do is much more tit for tat. If you want something from us, we get something in return.”

“Like what?” Sam asked. “My soul?” he asked with a chuckle that died in his throat when Crowley shrugged. 

“That’s usually the asking price, pup.” 

“But, I’m just a kid!” 

“It’s rare for kids to make deals, true, but a paying customer was still a customer,” Crowley said. 

Sam blinked several times, startled, then shook his head. “No, no way! You, uh, don’t want my soul.”

“I don’t?”

“Oh no. There’s, what, millions of souls in Hell, right? You don’t want another one to add to the chaos,” Sam said quickly. At least he was smart enough to realize the asking price was high. Too high. 

Crowley shrugged. “Sorry Sam. Without you bringing something to the table, there’ll be no deal.” 

Sam bit his lip and thought quickly while Crowley inspected his manicured fingernails with barely any concern to the idea he might be trapped for a great length of time. Crowley might be immortal, but Sam wasn’t, and it was getting colder and colder as the night wore on. 

“I won’t give up my soul, but what about kishin-egg locations?” Sam asked. 

Crowley looked up and arched an eyebrow. “Why would I want those?”

“Night Vale wasn’t attacked by accident, was it? And you didn’t just show up for the aftermath, did you? It was a message, from the woman in white to someone else,” Sam said, laying out the pieces he’d been putting together for a few weeks now. “Someone like you.”

“Me?”

“The attack was a message, a show of power, and except for us, you’re the only one who showed up to answer the challenge,” Sam said. “Who is she? The woman in white?”

Crowley scoffed. “The biggest pain-in-the-arse bitch that’s ever been pulled off the rack, that’s who.”

When Sam narrowed his eyes in curiosity, Crowley sighed in annoyance. “Alright, fine, puppy-eyes. The _woman_ was a dental hygienist from Omaha. The _demon_ riding her was Lilith, the Queen of the Crossroads. While I think I’m a very handsome charmer, she’s one of those ‘Hail the 2nd Coming of Lucifer’ groupies that pop up every century or so that get it in their head to depose the king and try their hand at reigning supreme. No one respects the title, and no one respects the job,” Crowley lamented. 

“Wait a second. _You’re_ the King of Hell?” Sam said in surprise. 

“What does _that_ mean?” Crowley demanded. 

“You, uh, don’t exactly look like the Devil to me,” Sam said quickly. 

“I’m not, moron. The Devil is a fallen archangel, I’m the true demonic rags-to-riches story. You should hear the story of how I became a demon. Very tragic.”

“So, this was a power play,” Sam said. “Which means you’ll need the kishin-egg locations more than my worthless soul. With that other demon Samhain she can resurrect kishin-eggs for her own purposes, which means the pickings are slim for us and for you.

“But, Lord Death has eyes and ears everywhere, and sends us out to deal with the monsters when they show up. If I give you some of those locations, you could get more eggs. Make yourself stronger, make Growly stronger, and when Lilith attacks again, you’ll be more than ready for her,” Sam said. “That’s worth more than just another screaming soul in the bottom of the Pit, isn’t it?”

Crowley let out a bark of amused laughter. “You’ve got a bigger pair than Growly does! So, that’s your brilliant plan: demon blood for kishin-egg locations?”

Sam nodded once, barely breathing from jittery nerves. 

Crowley flashed a predatory smile. “Well, Sam, consider today to be your lucky day. My interest in bringing Lilith to heel outweighs my wanting your (albeit interesting) soul several thousand-fold. It sounds like we’ve got a deal, puppy-eyes. Now, let me out?”

Sam went to the opposite canyon wall and with a small piece of sandpaper scratched away a small section of the trap. Crowley stepped forward and snapped up a small glass vile of red liquid appeared in his hand, which he tossed to Sam. The boy caught it flawlessly and peered at it, unable to believe he’d actually managed this crazy plan. 

“How do I--?”

“One drop a day should do the trick, Mooseling,” Crowley said. “Don’t overdo it. There might be some…unusual side-effects.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. No one’s been stupid enough to try this before, remember?”

“What do I tell my partners? Do they need to drink it, too?”

“Tell them it’s the mutli-vitamin from Hell,” Crowley said with a chuckle. “Everything a growing boy needs. Or, don’t tell them—more than likely they’ll feel its affects through you.”

“How do I contact you?” Sam asked. “To give you the locations?” 

“Since we’re now partners, this is a little formal,” Crowley motioned around to the trap. “Just call me. A smart kid like you should be able to figure out my number easily enough.”

“You have a cell phone?”

“It’s the 21st century, moron, everyone has a cell phone,” Crowley said with rolled eyes. When Sam looked down at his feet, embarrassed, Crowley sighed and tossed him a brand new smartphone. “There. Unlimited talk and text, plenty of data for surfing the web for porn, something else a growing boy needs.”

Sam almost dropped the phone in surprise at that last statement, but Crowley ignored his reddening cheeks. “I want a new location for eggs every day ‘til I say otherwise. Don’t try to back out of our deal, Sam, or Hell will have a new tenant.”

Sam nodded, carefully placing the vile in his backpack. “So, uh, do we shake hands to seal the deal?”

Crowley grinned. “Not exactly.”


	27. Holiday Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weather outside is frightful, bored DWMA students aren't delightful,   
> with kishin-eggs attacks on the low,   
> let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
> 
> The students are offered a deal: what will the gang's holiday plans entail?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm going to try and get out this Christmas/holiday arc out in real time and will hopefully have 4 or 5 long chapters up before December 25th. Will it work? No idea, especially between work, other series, and holiday present making. BUT! I will do my best!

The seven students looked at the obstacle course before them in slight awe. The track outside of the backdoor of the gym had changed into an intricate obstacle course that would have made any veteran Marine wince at the thought of running it. Ten foot tall walls without foot-holes, six-foot deep holes you either jumped or swung over on a rope—miss and you ended up to your waist in freezing cold quicksand and mud. There were jungle gyms and ramps and too many other things almost piled on top of each other. 

“You actually expect us to run that? We’ll break an ankle!” Gabriel exclaimed, trying not to sound whiny but trying to make a point. Even Dean and Cas, arguably some of the more daring members of their group, looked daunted. 

Sid was standing over to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled at them—there was danger in that smile. “If you’re worth your salt as weapons and meisters, you’ll do it.”

Gabriel groaned when he caught sight of the determined edge Kali got to her eyes at that comment. Kali was not one to back down from such a blatant challenge, no matter how the odds were stacked against her. 

Without a word she walked over to the Start line on the ground before the course. “Anyone else joining me?” she asked evenly. 

~*~

“Dean, how are you doing? You sound a little out of it,” Ellen said on the phone, sounding a little worried. Normally when she or Bobby called Dean he seemed more enthusiastic about hearing from his family. Today, however, he sounded like had just woken up, even though it was almost 4 in the afternoon. 

“Sorry, Mom. Sid’s been running us ragged over these past few weeks,” Dean admitted. He shook his head to wake himself up but it didn’t do anything. Little droplets of water from his shower were tossed about the bedroom. The warm water had done little to sooth his aching muscles. 

‘Running them ragged’ had been an understatement—Sid had been trying to kill the seven meisters and weapons from exhaustion. Death had apparently determined that their willingness to throw themselves into danger from the Night Vale incident meant they needed to be subjected some of the most dangerous training the school usually only offered to higher level students. He seemed to think they might just run off willy-nilly, and if he couldn’t stop them, he could at least make sure they could handle any further surprises. 

Only Sam had been taking the training better than the rest—today he had actually beaten Castiel in a footrace, something Dean didn’t even think was possible. Castiel was _fast_. 

“I thought you said kishin-eggs haven’t been showing up too much?”

“They haven’t. They’re keeping us on our toes.” He hadn’t mentioned the Night Vale attack, and was starting to wonder when that was going to bite him in the ass. “What about you guys?”

Ellen sighed. “We’re doing well enough, I suppose. Bobby and Rufus have been going out more. Jo’s doing well in school, but it’s obvious she misses you. We all miss you, Dean.”

“I miss you guys, too.”

“Actually, I was wondering…do you think you could come home? I know Jo gets winter vacations—do you, too?”

Dean thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure the sanctity of Christmas is lost on most monsters, Mom,” he said with a cheeky smile. 

“Thank you, smartass. No, really, I think you should tell your Mr. Alban you need to come home for a week or so. We could use a hand out here.” 

Dean’s ears perked up at that. “What’s going on?” 

His mother sighed. “We’re not completely sure. Children are disappearing around the area. Could be fae, changlings, shifters…we’re not sure. There is something up, though.”

“I talked to Dad last week and he didn’t mention this,” Dean said. 

“You know Bobby. He’s more worried about you doing the best you can while at school. Of course, I want you to do your best as well, but you might burn yourself out if you don’t give yourself a chance to breathe. A break in the routine, you know?”

His heart ached at the idea. God, he missed his family. This was the longest he’d been away from them, and though his friends did well enough to fill the void, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in the wrong place. He was needed at home—Bobby and Rufus were very capable on their own, but Bobby had wanted to stay out of the direct hunting business ever since Jo was born, and he had managed it for the most part. Researching lore for hunters had been the most involvement he’d had, until recently. 

“You know what? I’ll run it past him. Maybe I’ll come home in time for Christmas,” Dean said with a chuckle. 

Yeah, the chances of that were microscopic.

~*~

The P.A. System crackled to life overhead, catching the attention of all the students in the classrooms all over the Academy. Dean and Cas shared a curious look, and they saw all of their other friends looking just as intrigued. Lord Death very rarely addressed the entirety of the school. Even Sid paused his lecture to look up in interest as a familiar voice cleared his throat.

_“You’re on the air, Sir,” came Spirit Alban’s voice._

_“Excellent, thank you, Spirit. Eh hem. Pardon the interruption. Good morning students! Lord Death here, just wanted to share a little announcement with you today. As you are mostly likely aware, kishin-egg reports have taken a dramatic dip during the past several months. As it were, there seems to be more and more cases of students with idle hands around here than ever before._

_“We are not a normal Academy—we do not take days off. After all, monsters don’t take holidays, and neither can we. However, since there is so little activity at the moment, and it is the holiday season, I’m offering a deal. Students may return home for a period no longer than two weeks—“_

There was a cheer from several people in the classroom, including a beaming Dean. Cas could see the urge to do a happy jig in Dean’s eyes, and smiled. Dean had been homesick for quite a while—perhaps the trip would do him some good. 

_“Yes, I’m sure that’s very exciting, but let me finish!” The Grim Reaper said cheerfully. “A student can petition me for a holiday leave no longer than two weeks, and while in your neck of the woods you are considered on call. If anything untoward happens and you are the closest Meister/Weapon team in the area, you are obligated to take care of the threat. These souls do count toward your total collection count._

_“If this appeals to you, feel free to drop by my office or contact me via the mirrors. Anyone who leaves without taking to me will have ten souls deducted from their final count, however!” Lord Death added in a somber tone. “Tootles! Now…how do I turn this thing off?”_

~*~

The cafeteria was abuzz with students excitedly talking about the Reaper’s offer. It seemed that many of the students were going to take him up on the offer. The seven of them sat around their usual table, mixed expressions on their faces. 

Dean was almost floating, but he tried to hide it with nonchalance around the others. Only Cas, it seemed, knew how much of a family man Dean was, and how much being away from them seemed to make him cranky at times. The second Death made the announcement he figured his partner would jump all over it. 

“So, anyone going to take up Death’s offer?” Dean asked the table with interest. The sisters looked at each other and shrugged. Kali looked bored, and Gabriel shook his head. 

“Wow, nobody answer at once,” Dean said a little dourly, feeling the need to cap himself around his friends. 

“Are you going to try and go home?” Sam asked curiously. 

Dean shrugged in a noncommittal way. “Maybe.” 

“Dean couldn’t contain his enthusiasm after the announcement,” Castiel said easily around a bite of salad, ignoring the look of betrayal on his partner’s face. 

“Aw, Deanie weenie’s homesick!” Gabriel snickered. Dean threw a packet of ketchup at the weapon, smacking him right in the chest. “Ah, I’m hit!” he cried in mock horror.

With a barely there smirk, Castiel supplied Dean a few more packets, causing Gabriel to look utterly betrayed but it made Ruby laugh. Ketchup and sugar packets started to fly through the air as Gabriel retaliated with his own ammo. Kali couldn’t seem to decide on whether to be irritated with her partner or embarrassed; when it was obvious no other students seemed to care what happened at their table, she allowed herself to chuckle when Gabriel clutched his chest, uttered a death-choke, and smoothly slid his body off the bench and under the table in “death.” 

“Sam, you owe me a new partner,” she told the other boy quite seriously.

“So, Clarence, if Dean heads to whatever backwoods he calls home, would you be tagging along?” Meg asked the blue-eyed angel, ducking as to not become collateral. 

Castiel nodded. “It would make more sense to stick together. Kishin-eggs may be rare, but it would be a disaster if we couldn’t take care of one if one happened to pop up.”

“But…what about your folks? Don’t you miss them?” she asked. 

Castiel looked away. “I would prefer to travel with Dean. My brother Raphael isn’t one for holiday festivities.”

“The holidays are nothing but a pain,” Kali said. 

“A pain? Then you haven’t been doing them right!” Gabriel said as he popped back up into his spot between Kali and Sam. “How can you not like Christmas? There’s cookies and cakes and pies!” 

“A man after my own heart,” Dean said with a grin. “Amen to pie!”

“What about you?” Castiel asked the sisters. “Will you return home?”

The girls looked at each other. “I don’t know,” Meg said honestly. “We don’t really do much for the holidays…”

Ruby looked surprised. “Well, I would _love_ to go home! We can head to Mondo’s place and see his baby! And remember the tree we always help Dad set up in the shop?”

“The live one he always puts in an old engine block instead of a regular stand?” Meg said with a laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. And the spiked nog Dad always lets us ‘sneak’.”

“I’m starting to think we should go home with you two,” Dean said. 

“The guys would chew you up and spit you out like a re-gifted fruitcake,” Ruby said. 

Dean looked at Sam. “Hey, actually, would you be interested in coming with me and Cas?”

Luckily, Sam had a feeling the conversation was going to go in that direction. “Um…can I think about it?” Sam asked. 

Dean nodded. “Just let me know by tomorrow so I can talk to Lord Death.”

Sam nodded and Dean didn’t push it. “I’m going to talk a walk before class,” Sam said to the table before he left; the girls didn’t follow him outside to the veranda off of the cafeteria. The air was cold outside, so there were no other students outside on the sunny but cold day. 

“Hey, Sam-a-lam!” Gabriel called from behind him. The boy was now wearing a green and red scarf and beanie, the kind with a giant pompom on top that made Sam laugh unconsciously. Gabriel huffed. 

“You’re just jealous of my fashion tastes,” he said “Want some company?”

Sam shrugged. He watched as the other boy shivered unconsciously as a fierce wind whipped past them both. He’d been layering his long-sleeve shirts under a thin jacket—he pulled up his hood to protect himself from the cold. “Even if I said no you’d still tag along, right?” Sam asked. 

“Blatantly disregarding the wishes of others is what I do best,” Gabriel said with cheer, though his eyes were narrowed at Sam’s lack of warm clothing.

They made their way from the patio down the steps that lead to the courtyard and winding cobblestone path that lead to both the front entrance and the city beyond the low fence around the back of the enormous Academy. 

“So, still hung up on possibly being Dean’s cousin, huh?” Gabriel said, cutting right to the heart of the matter. 

Sam sighed, his breathe creating a patch of fog before him. “That obvious?”

“I mean, you only _ran_ out of the cafeteria after he mentioned it.”

“It’s just…I still think he’s mixed me up with someone else.”

“Ah, I see. Because it’s not like you have the same first and last name, the same parent’s names, are the same age, or even have the same bitch face as his cousin. Oh, wait.”

Sam shot him one of his trademark scowls. 

“Sam, I haven’t known you terribly long, but God you either overthink things or don’t think them out enough,” Gabriel said easily. “My vote is go.” 

“But, what if—“

“If his parents don’t recognize you, then so what? You get to hang out with your friends and have a bonafide excuse to not do any homework for a few days. Once Dean sees he’s wrong he’ll drop it and never mention it again. Problem solved.”

Sam didn’t look up, he simply looked at his feet as they continued walking. “And…what if he’s been right the whole time?”

Gabriel focused on Sam’s face with laser intensity. “Well, it would certainly be one hell of a Christmas gift. Not many people get a family for the holidays.”

They managed to walk a long time without speaking, but the silence between them wasn’t as awkward as Sam had feared. Gabriel was surprisingly easy to talk to when it came to ‘important’ things—despite being young, Sam had noticed the boy had a tendency for sudden bouts of wisdom between diabetic-inducing sugar binges and insufferable pranks. 

Gabriel’s eyes lit up with an idea. “Hey! What if I tagged along? Would that help? I could act as a neutral party.”

“Why in the world would you want to come with us?”

_Because you’re going, moron!_ “Because I’m dying to know whether Dean’s right or nuttier than a Reese’s Nutrageous bar,” Gabriel said. 

A smile unconsciously curled the ends of the meister’s lips. “You really think Kali will let you?”

_That sounds like a yes to me!_ “I’ll just have to make her see reason, won’t I?” he said with a wink.

Sam blinked in surprise. “What in the world are you going to blackmail her with??”

Gabriel laughed. “Clever thinking, Winchester! I’ll see what I can dig up. Also, I noticed the fancy new phone you got. Want to give me your number and I’ll text you?”

Sam froze for a few seconds, thinking his deal with Crowley had just been exposed, but Gabriel didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the phone’s origin. Sam rattled off the phone number and Gabriel’s eyes lit up as he grinned—why did Sam feel a little lightheaded whenever Gabriel did that?

~*~

_G: Hey, Sammy! You awake?_

_S: …..I wasn’t. It’s 3AM…._

_G: Whoopsie, sorry Sasquatch. Talked to Kali._

_S:….And? What’d she say?_

_G: Well, I can’t really repeat it to you because there would be a lot of CAPS and ***s. She really wants to go back home to NYC but won’t go unless I go with her in case anything attacks. I told her we aren’t living in Cloverfield but she won’t budge on it._

_S: Well, sorry Gabe._

_G: Have you decided about going or not?_

_S: *sigh* IDK. I could stay in D.C._

_G: NO WAY!! If the rest of us are going to deal with awkward family drama, you aren’t allowed to wimp out. Besides, you don’t want to be stuck here all by yourself. Trust me._

_S: …..Point._

_G: Stop overthinking Sam! Just go with Dean and Cas. You can chaperone them for me. ;-)_

_S: If I say yes, will you let me go back to sleep?_

_G: XD_

_S: Fine. YES._

_G: I want that signed and framed._

_S: GOOD. NIGHT. GABRIEL._

_G: Night night snickerdoodle!_

~*~

The alarm clock only rang once before he smacked it gracefully despite still being half-asleep, silencing it. He rolled onto his back and blinked several times, bringing his tiny and bare room into focus in the early morning. It was just past dawn, but despite being a teenager he liked the morning hours, alone and undisturbed. 

On the way back from a quick trip to the bathroom, he leaned in and listened at his roommate’s door, but he simply heard loud, rhythmic breathing. The girls wouldn’t be up for another hour, more than likely two—they liked their sleep. 

He quickly returned to his room, closed the door silently, and steeled himself. Even after a few weeks it was still new, frightening, and nerve-wracking. He got on his knees and thrust his arm between his mattress and the box spring, feeling for the tiny slit in the underside of the mattress. After a moment of fumbling he found it, and when he pulled back his arm there was a small glass vile in his hand, still full of red liquid. 

Sam dabbed a single drop on his finger and licked it away with a grimace, but the blood wasn’t disgusting like he had imagined. It tasted heavy and metallic, and there was this hint of darkness, a slight spice to the drop, but it was down his throat and gone before he could overthink it anymore. 

Over two weeks, and he didn’t feel much difference. Still, he was determined to keep going. He capped the vile and slid it back into its hiding place before changing.  
It was so funny how easily Sam incorporated the blood to his routine with barely a second thought. 

~*~

The morning sun beat down on him as he jogged down the cobblestone streets of Death City, taking a longer run than usual around the Academy to the main entrance. His shirt was soaked in sweat but he had to wear a large hoodie because of the cool night air still lingering in the early morning. Not many other people were out at that time of morning. Considering the major populace of the city was teenagers, there was no surprise he never saw another student on his runs. 

Sam looked up at the oversized candles that framed the front entrance and the three skulls that seemed to gaze down at all those who came and went with watchful eyes. He took a breath and made his way inside, silently jogging down the main hallway until he came to the Assignment Board. 

When he had first started at the Academy, the Board had been full to bursting with slips of paper that contained the location, most recent suspected kishin-egg sighting, and the star-rank the assignment required. Now, only a few months later, there were barely a dozen slips on the Board. Even after the Night Vale incident, kishin-egg sightings were still falling. Most assignments were reserved for senior students close to the 99 kishin-egg limit and younger freshmen falling behind. 

Sam reached up to grab three slips—the usual routine he had started, grabbing his, Dean’s, and Kali’s assignments first thing—but he stopped himself. Death had asked them to focus on training, and to leave the assignments alone for the moment. He huffed in irritation.

Instead, he glanced up and down the hallways to make sure he was alone. He dug into his sweatpants pocket and pulled out the clunky smartphone Crowley had given him. He opened up the camera feature, held it up to the board, and snapped several pictures until he had one that was crystal clear. 

Crowley had been right—it had only taken Sam a few minutes to figure out the King of Hell’s cell phone number. _666_ , he typed in the text message, attached the picture, and hit the send button. There, the dirty deed was done. Sam tried not to feel really guilty for that. Assignments being as rare as they were nowadays, and here he was handing them over to the non-Devil. Although, to his credit, Crowley usually only picked one or two to go after, so it wasn’t a complete wash for the students. 

Another quick glance around, and satisfied he wasn’t seen, Sam made an unhurried jog to the doors to head back to his dorm to wake the girls and get ready for school. Just outside the doors he got a text back. 

_Thanks a lot love! ;-]_

Sam shuddered. He felt like he’d need two showers. Or ten. 

~*~

Dean stifled a huge yawn as he approached his seat in the lecture hall. There weren’t as many students present because of the early hour, but he grinned upon seeing his friends were there. They hopped up from their spots and converged on his and Castiel’s section as they set their stuff down. 

Dean opened his mouth to speak but he looked at Sam standing next to him. “Sam, I _swear_ you got taller since yesterday,” he said simply, a scowl of confusion on his face. 

Sam shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “Growth spurt?” _Is the demon blood affecting me? I know Crowley mentioned side effects, but God, I hope it doesn’t make me into a giant overnight!_

“Whatever, bitch. We spoke to Death! Had to wake up at the ass crack of dawn, and even then we still had to wait in a damn line,” Dean said, almost jittery with excitement. 

“He gave us the go ahead,” Castiel said. “We’ll be leaving after class today.”

“Jesus, what’s the rush?” Meg joked. 

“Dean was very adamant,” was all Castiel said. 

“You’re coming too, Sammy! Well, if you want. I asked if you could come, and Death okayed it,” Dean explained quickly. He watched the other boy carefully, judging Sam’s reaction. 

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and took a breath. “That sounds great. I’ve, uh, never seen South Dakota before,” Sam said with an easy grin. Once he got the words out, trepidation was replaced with curiosity, even a little excitement. 

Dean’s face lit up with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. He gave Sam a hard slap on the shoulder. “Make sure you get your shit packed fast, Sammy, I’ll grab you this afternoon.”

“You were going to run out of town and weren’t even going to say goodbye? Rude!” a tired Gabriel said melodramatically as he and Kali walked up to their group. 

“Yeah, you were right,” Sam said. He thought he saw a tiny, infinitesimal grin turn up Kali’s lips, but it was gone so quickly he must have mistakenly seen it.

“It really is the season of miracles,” Ruby said dryly. “I think Death will be okay with me and Sis heading back to California for some time with Dad.”

“You know if any kishin-eggs pop up you can’t do anything, right?” Kali pointed out. “If might behoove you to stay at Sam’s side.”

“Nah, we’ll be fine,” Meg said with a shrug. Sam wondered if the sisters might be tempted to put their weapon/weapon training to use in his absence. 

Kali looked like she wanted to argue more, but she dropped it. 

“But, that leaves you two here by yourselves?” Castiel asked Kali and Gabriel. 

Gabriel groaned. “Actually, Kali’s already purchased the plane tickets to New York City.”

“You didn’t get a vote on it?” Sam asked in concern. 

“Oh, I did. Whether I wanted to be in 1st Class or stuffed into a doggy crate. I opted for the one with more leg room.” Gabriel said with a grumble. An arm wrapped itself around his slumped shoulders and he found himself on the receiving end of Sam’s smile.

“I didn’t know they made crates that big,” Sam said, laughing. 

“That was so bad you almost broke my funny bone,” Gabriel said, trying not to blush at Sam’s sudden urge for contact. The hunter was reserved and generally didn’t touch others unless it was necessary.

Dean and Castiel both rolled their eyes in tandem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are most appreciated, my fine readers. They are the only payment I get for this after all! ;-)


	28. The Family Business--Xmas Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Castiel, and Sam get to South Dakota and get a hell of a homecoming only a Winchester can receive!

**I**

Sam slid into the backseat of the old Chevelle and looked up to see Dean and Castiel turned in their seats to give him excited looks. Well, Dean looked excited—Castiel looked more intrigued than anything. The butterflies Sam had been feeling all afternoon intensified into a whirlwind in his stomach, but he put on an impassive face. 

“Hope you brought a book or something, Sammy, we’ve got a long trip ahead of us,” Dean said. 

“How long?” Sam asked. 

“Well…” Dean looked down at the watch on his wrist. “If all goes well, we’ll be pulling into my driveway tomorrow about now.”

“24 hours?” Suddenly the old, slightly musky-smelling car wasn’t looking so swell. The only time he’d ridden in the car was the mad dash to Night Vale in the middle of the night. Now in the daylight he could see it was a car that had some years under its timing belt. The windows were slightly filmy and the floor (though clean) had some stains on it Sam didn’t want to ask about. The front bench seat looked newer than the back one, and there were little strips of duct tape on gashes in the upholstery. The only thing new about the car was the windshield—it didn’t even have a single smear from a head-on bug vs. vehicle collision. 

He looked up and blinked in obvious surprise, suddenly feeling very nervous. 

“Dean? Um, what’s that?” he managed to ask. He realized how suspicious it would look it he didn’t question the sudden piece of graffiti painted all over the roof of the car with white paint. 

“It’s called a Devil’s Trap,” Dean said. The entire roof of the car was covered in a simplified version of the trap, the same one Sam had used to trap Crowley. “Once a demon enters they can’t leave unless a line is broken.”

“Dean painted it after Night Vale,” Castiel added. 

“Hey, it never hurts to be careful,” Dean said. 

Sam suddenly became nervous. Where the drops of blood in his body enough to set off the trap? Would he be able to leave the car? Or pull his backpack out? The vial was stuffed in between several layers of clothing to prevent the glass from being broken—would it get stuck? 

“You drove that entire way all by yourself from Orientation?” Castiel asked. 

Dean nodded. “It sucked. Took me three days because I kept getting stuck in traffic.”

“You mean you kept getting lost,” Sam retorted, trying not to panic. He settled his nerves with the thought that he wasn’t a demon per say, so the trap wouldn’t work on him. Hopefully.

Emerald eyes narrowed at the younger Winchester through the rear-view mirror. “You can walk,” he grumped. 

“Why didn’t you take a plane?” Castiel asked. 

Dean blinked at him and motioned towards the car. “Hello, can’t exactly take this on a 747, can I? I needed my wheels! Besides, flying’s over-rated and expensive.”

Sam noticed Dean swallow and absently wipe at his brow. “Dean, are you afraid of flying?”

“What? No! I just…like my feet very firmly on terra firma,” he said. 

The car started up and they finally maneuvered out of Death City and onto a stretch of highway that lead east, back towards home. 

Dean’s home. 

Sam looked out the window for a while, wondering. What were Dean’s parents like? Would they recognize him? Would he them? Maybe if he saw them, he’d finally jog free the memories he felt like he should have been remembering this whole time, but were firmly locked away from his grasp. 

But, what if Dean had been mistaken the whole time? There was no point in getting himself worked up over nothing.

As the beginning chords for Led Zepplins’ “The Song Remains The Same” began filling the car with classic rock, Sam leaned forward over the back of the front seat so he was between Dean and Castiel. “Dean, can I see your music collection?” Sam asked. 

“Sure. Cas, the box in the glovebox,” Dean said. Sam found himself presented with a beat-up cardboard box with several equally old and beat up cassette tapes. Sam pawed through the box for a moment, and looked up at Dean. 

“Seriously, dude?” he asked. 

“Seriously what?”

“Dean, do you listen to anything else other than mullet rock?” 

“Bitch, they’re classic albums! _Classic!_ ” Dean argued. “Castiel, what’s the number one rule in my car?”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,” Castiel dutifully answered. Ah, apparently they’ve had this discussion before. 

Sam gave the box back and huffed back into the back seat. He was reminded of the long trips with his Dad in the old truck they drove from town to town. John liked ‘the classics’ too. _Must be a family thing_ , Sam thought, before groaning internally at his Freudian slip.

~*~

_G: Hey sugar plum! How goes the family road trip?_

_S: I think Dean’s a mutant. He’s somehow able to jam out to the same album 5 times in a row without getting bored. Castiel likes to watch the scenery, and my legs are too long for this backseat. You?_

_G: Sounds rough. Just touched down in Chicago for a quick layover. Apparently Kali’s pissed because they won’t serve her alcohol even though “I’m a Shivan!” It’s kinda funny to see a rich person stymied by petty things like THE LAW._

_S:….Huh._

_G: You’re a stimulating conversation partner as always._

_S: You started this. I’m not a texter._

_G: Well, too bad. As long as I’ve got someone to talk to on this trip, maybe I won’t go crazy and do something stupid._

_S: *sigh* Sorta thinking the same thing._

_G: Too bad you guys couldn’t fly to SD._

_S: Actually, Dean’s afraid of flying._

_G: ….Let me just tuck that away from future use….;D…..Welp, gotta go! Plane’s about to leave again. Catch ya later!_

~*~

Sam leaned forward between the other two guys. “So, Dean, you’ve driven around a lot, right? What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?”  
Dean cracked a grin. “Saw the world’s biggest ball of yarn. Twice.” 

“How big was it?” Castiel asked curiously. 

“Big enough to give me nightmares about it rolling after us and crushing the car with us inside,” Dean answered with a goofy grin. “I was just a kid when I saw it. How about you, Sam?”

Sam thought for a moment. “The Cadillac Graveyard,” he said. 

Dean shot him a jealous look. “No way! Always wanted to see that. The cars look like one of those giant ass worms from the Tremors movies tried to eat ‘em.” 

“I just saw that!” Sam said in excitement. “Gabriel’s been making me watch movies with him. We just saw the whole movie series.” 

“Burt always reminds me of Dad,” Dean said. “And seeing Rufus and Dad together is like watching Val and Earl bitching at each other, it’s great.” 

As the conversation drifted in arguments about the sequels, the characters, the monsters, Castiel simply listened and let a little grin grace his face. For the first time in a long time, there wasn’t this undercurrent of tension between Dean and Sam that had been growing recently. Sam had almost been tiptoeing around Dean in the past few months, and Dean had taken it personally. Castiel was just glad they seemed to be getting along—

“Jerk!” 

“Bitch!” 

\--well, as well as those two could get. 

~*~

The asphalt led them from long stretches of lonely desert road to cornfields to small towns to large cities. There was laughter and silence, arguments and jokes, and throughout the trip there was some sort of rock on the radio to keep them company on the long trip. When Dean pulled over to a gas station for snacks, Sam was able to hide his relief when both he and his backpack slid out of the backseat without a problem. 

They wandered around to stretch out their legs and try to get feeling back into their backs and butts. They argued over chips and had to explain the Castiel what the magazines with the naked girls on them were. 

“You’ve never seen a porn mag?” was Dean’s surprised response.

“No? What’s the point of it?” 

Sam ran a hand over his face. “I’m not having this discussion. You’re the oldest, you can sit him down for the birds and the bees later,” he told Dean with a straight face. 

Dean could’ve fried an egg on his face, his cheeks was burning so badly, especially when Castiel turned his piercing eyes expectantly to his partner. “Dean?”

Sam walked away snickering to himself. _Gabriel might even be proud of that little moment_ , he thought to himself. 

~*~

Day turned to evening to night. When the front of the car started drifting into the other lane Dean was forced to pull the car into a secluded dirt road. He pulled just far off the main road enough that no passing car would become suspicious of them. Yawning loudly and barely able to keep his eyes open, he pulled out blankets from the trunk and passed them out. 

“Why don’t we stay in a motel?” Castiel asked. “There was one a few miles back.”

“What motel would let three kids stay without an adult?” Dean asked sleepily. 

“The kind that charges by the hour,” Sam answered. “Trust me; we’re better off in the car.” 

Castiel let out a long-suffering sigh but didn’t argue. 

It was cold out, almost to the point of snow, but the blankets were heavy and warm. Dean and Castiel leaned the front seat back while Sam curled his long legs up to sleep in the backseat.

Sam’s phone buzzed and he tried to dig it out of his pocket as silently as possible. His breath was visible as little puffs by the light of the screen. 

_G: Hey! Finally in NYC, holy crap this place is insane! But now I see where Kali gets her sense of anti-humor._

_S: Genetic?_

_G: Very. I think if her parents cracked a smile the universe would break. How goes it?_

_S: I’ve pretzel myself into the backseat to sleep._

_G: You’re sleeping in the *car*?_

_S: It’s actually pretty warm. We have blankets._

_G: And each other ;D_

_S: God, no. I’d rather freeze first._

“Sam, what are you doing?” Dean grumbled from the front seat. He was covered in a blanket and had his head against the seat, sunglasses on his face. 

“Gabriel’s texting me.”

“Say goodnight to your boyfriend already,” Dean said. “Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“Don’t know why _you’re_ complaining then,” Sam retorted. “And anyways, he’s not my—“ Sam huffed. “Never mind.” 

“You two need to be quiet,” the Castiel-shaped blanketed lump in the passenger seat said gruffly. “Sleep now.” 

Dean mumbled under his blanket but was quiet. Since his eyelids were starting to droop anyway, Sam decided the weapon was right. 

_G: If you see Dean and Cas spooning in the front seat, I demand pictorial evidence!_

_S: …..Try to get along with Kali’s folks. NYC is a long way to walk back to Nevada._

_G: You’re no fun, Samikins! Anyways, good night!_

_S: Night._

There was a sense of comradery about the entire thing, and even as he listened to Dean and Castiel’s easy breathing from the front seat, as he watched the ice form over the windows of the car, he was very glad he had taken Gabriel’s advice to heart. 

~*~

The next morning started bright and early—they shivered for several minutes as Dean got the car warmed up enough to pump warm air into the cab of the car. They got the ice melted away and started moving again. Within a few miles they found a diner and used it to get cleaned up and order some breakfast. Sam was able to sneak a drop of blood from the vial when Dean and Cas went inside to get them a booth. 

After a breakfast that would’ve sent any adult to the hospital because of the amount of grease alone, the boys got back onto the road. Sam sat in the backseat and leafed through a national newspaper until he found a few stories with some mysterious disappearances. He sent the locations to Crowley, hoping fervently that at least one of them was a bonafide kishin-egg attack. He couldn’t send any DWMA locations, so he did the best he could, and hoped it was enough to keep the demon king happy. 

~*~

When Dean had exhausted the albums in his box (Sam probably knew the lyrics to every song from ever tape at this point, and he wasn’t the one who drove around with Dean on a daily basis. Poor Cas.) he swapped over to the radio and managed—using his mutant powers—to find a rock station on the first try while scouting for stations on the car’s old radio. Sam groaned, and even Castiel huffed, but as Dean turned the song up and started bopping his head to the beat and Sam paused. 

_“Mama told me when I was young,_  
Come and sit beside me, my only son,   
And listen closely to what I say.  
And if you do this, it’ll help you some sunny day. Oh yeah!” 

_“Oh, take your time…Don’t live too fast,_  
Troubles will come and they will pass.   
You’ll find a woman, yeah yeah, you’ll find love.  
And don’t forget son,   
There is someone up above.” 

_“And be a sim~ple, kind of man! Oh be something, you love and understand!”_ Dean belted out. _“Baby be a simple kind of man. Oh, won’t you do this for me son, if you can?”_

“Come on, guys! Don’t leave me hanging here alone,” Dean said loudly over the music. Castiel was wide-eyed and Sam just shook his head. 

“I can’t sing!” Sam said with a laugh. 

“It’s a classic song, Sam, come on!” Dean said again. “I _know_ you know it!” 

_“Forget your lust, for the rich man’s gold_  
All that you need, is in your soul,  
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try.  
All that I want for you my son, is to be satisfied. 

_“And be a simp~le, kind of ma~an! Oh be something you love and understand!”_ Sam suddenly blurted out from the backseat before he lost the nerve. _“Baby be a simple kind of man. Oh, won’t you do this for me son, if you can?”_

“Oh yes I will!” Dean answered back. 

_“Boy don’t worry…you’ll find yourself._  
Follow your heart , and nothing else.  
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try.   
All that I want for you my son,   
Is to be satisfied.” 

_“And be a simp~le kind of ma~an! Oh be something you love and understand!”_ Castiel’s gruff voice suddenly joined in on the impromptu karaoke. All three of them were grinning like idiots and belting out the last of the chorus, off-key and not caring at all. _“Baby, be a simp~le kind of man. Oh, won’t you do this for me son, if you can?”_

As the song ended, Dean looked back at Sam with a pleased look on his face. “Well, look at that, looks like you’ve got some decent musical taste after all! And Cas, man, that was _awesome_. Have I mentioned you’re awesome?”

“I’m afraid I was very off, but it was a very catchy verse,” the weapon said with his usual impassive, unreadable face, but Sam thought he saw a pleased look at the compliment. 

“It’s Lynyrd Skynyrd man, one of the best classics out there!” 

Dean and Cas started playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors. Castiel won with a rock to Dean’s scissors, and was allowed to change the radio station to something he liked. The weapon stopped on a jazz station and Dean rolled his eyes. In the rearview mirror, Sam caught the softened look of those mossy green eyes as they glanced with a look of fondness at the weapon staring out the window. 

Sam chuckled to himself and was feeling really good about the moment of silliness. As he sat back, the words of the song hit him, sobering him for a moment. _Troubles come and pass…there’s always someone above…all you need is your soul…_

Sam glanced over at his back pack, and for the first time a shudder went down his back at the innocent-looking vial tucked in between his socks and shirts. Sam began to wonder if maybe he’d made a rash decision, in this deal he made with the King of Hell. 

~*~

“Please tell me we’ll be getting there soon,” Sam said with a little bit of a whine from the backseat as afternoon passed into early evening. He had lost track of what state they were in, and his legs were cramping from the long drive. Dean must’ve been going cross-eyed by now, he’d driven at least two twelve-hour stints back to back. The front seat was littered with the little plastic bottles of 5 Hour Energy and chip bags. 

Dean stifled a yawn, but he was smiling instead of frowning as he turned from the main road onto a smaller side road. “So, there’s a few rules I need to mention before we get there. Rule Number 1: Never _ever_ move my Dad’s books. Or, knowing you two eggheads won’t be able to stop yourselves from doing that, for the love of _God_ put it back exactly where you found it. My Dad works in a state of ordered chaos. He knows exactly where every book is, and if you move it you’ll throw the entire system out of whack. Got it?”

“Got it,” Castiel answered. 

“Rule Number 2: No back-sassing my Mom. She’ll smack you without hesitation. Don’t leave any dishes in the sink or any sort of trash out or she’ll raise hell.” 

“They won’t even know we’re there,” Sam said. 

“Rule Number 3: Watch out for Jo. I mean that in both a ‘watch out for her wellbeing’ and ‘watch out for her’ period. She’s a worse hustler than Rufus. She’ll bat her eyelashes and you’ll suddenly find yourself dressed up in a pink dress with flowers in your hair.”

Sam cracked a smile. “Personal experience?” he snickered. 

“Shut up Sam.” Dean slowed down and a huge metal sign suddenly loomed before them in the failing sunlight. B&E’s Salvage Yard, it said in prominent letters. 

“This is it?” Castiel asked. 

“Home sweet home!” Dean answered back with a happy howl to the ceiling, not even caring that he whipped around the corner faster than necessary and tossed gravel from his tires as he hit the dirt road that wound around to a old two-story house. A few cars were parked in front of it, including a huge black vehicle that looked incredibly well-kept considering the rest of the junkers littered around behind a chain link fence. 

He threw the car into park next to the black vehicle, and with a surprising burst of energy leapt from the car and actually hugged the black muscle car. 

“Oh, Baby, it’s good to be home!” he proclaimed. 

Castiel and Sam were a little slower moving, but as they got out of the car they gave each a slightly confused, slightly worried look. 

“I think the drive took more out of him than I thought,” Sam said. 

“Actually, I think he just missed the car,” Castiel admitted. 

Dean grinned at them at motioned at the vehicle. “1967 Chevy Impala, isn’t she a beauty? Oh, man, did I miss you! Baby, this is Cas and Sam.” 

Unsure what to do, the two teenagers gave the car a little wave. 

The front door on the porch suddenly burst open, and a little body shot outside and leapt over the front steps with superhuman speed and agility. Cas was about to shout for Dean to get out of the way when the meister turned and caught the little ten-year-old blonde mid-air. He swept her up into his arms and hugged her fiercely. 

“Baby Girl!” Dean said, hugging her fiercely. 

“Dean, you’re home, you’re home, you’re home! Mom’s gonna flip, she’ll be so excited!” Jo, Dean’s sister, said. 

“Did you miss me?” Dean asked as he kissed her forehead. 

“Not at all,” Jo said, but her little arms and legs wrapped even tighter around Dean’s middle, as if afraid he’d disappear if she let go. 

“What a little liar! You’re suffocating me, Jo,” Dean said, and the little girl allowed herself to be pried from him and placed on the ground. She looked up at Sam and Castiel standing awkwardly to the side and narrowed her eyes at them. 

“Who are you?” she asked them suspiciously. 

“Those are my friends Cas and Sam.”

“Hello Jo,” Castiel said. 

“Hi Jo,” Sam said. 

Jo bounced up to them and looked them over. “Well, come on, Mom and Dad aren’t gonna bite!” she said, grabbing a hand from each boy and effectively dragged them to the porch steps. 

Sam hesitated, but allowed himself to breathe and calm down. _Dean didn’t mention me as her cousin, maybe he won’t bring it up_ , Sam hoped. But his mind was such a jumble of fear and nervousness his knees got wobbly. Did he want them to be his relations? Did he not? What did he want?

Even after a 24 hour car ride to mull it over, he still had no idea what he wanted what reaction he was hoping for. 

Just before they got to the porch steps the door opened again and out emerged a man and woman. Middle-aged, the man was bearded with a trucker’s cap and in a plaid shirt and jeans. The woman had shoulder-length blonde hair beginning to change to silver, but her eyes had this hawk-like intensity that made both Castiel and Sam want to snap to attention. Dean strode up the steps and didn’t even bother to say hello before he dragged them into a hug. 

“Good to see you, boy,” Bobby said, looking surprisingly delighted. 

“Dean, honey, you didn’t tell me you were actually coming home!” Ellen said, but she too was pleased. “Good thing you came when you did, you almost missed us.”

“I did miss you,” Dean said, but it was almost too low to hear. 

“No chick-flick moments!” Jo piped up from the bottom of the stairs. Dean turned and wiped something from his eyes with the tail of his shirt. 

“Friggin’ road dust,” he said with an awkward chuckle. “But, yeah, hope you guys don’t mind, but I brought a couple friends.” 

Castiel stepped forward as Bobby and Ellen descended the stairs. “I’m Castiel,” he said, holding out his hand. Bobby shook it while giving him an appraising look. Slightly shorter than Dean, leaner, with messy black hair and blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean. The gruff voice surprised the hunter, but he didn’t let it show. He also had a handshake that was powerful and reserved—it seemed there was more to Dean’s partner than met even the seasoned eye. 

“Castiel? Sounds almost angelic,” Bobby said. 

“My father liked to name us after angels,” Castiel said. He shook hands with Ellen as well. 

“Nice to meet you, Castiel.”

“You can call me Cas….it’s a shortened version of my name,” he added. 

“Dean’s always got a thing for nicknames,” Bobby said with a grin. “Tried to call Rufus ‘Uncle Ruffie’ when he was a kid. Had to knock _that_ notion right outta his head.” 

Sam scoffed as Dean’s ears turned red along with his face. “Geez, Dad. Oh, guys! And this is Sam,” he said nonchalantly. 

Sam had steeled himself for it, but it felt like a punch to the heart when Bobby and Ellen looked at him and didn’t seem to know him. He felt defeated and deflated—he’d been hoping…

Dean walked over and threw an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Excuse me, I meant to say this is Sam _Winchester_.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Castiel watched the parents with interest, and Sam trembled slightly. He was about to say something to Dean, something like ‘Forget it,’ or ‘Told you,’ but he didn’t get the chance. The fact that Dean looked so confident about it made him wait out the moment without saying a word, and he got to see the second they went from staring at him in confusion to—

“Oh, my God. _SAM_?!” They both exclaimed at the same time, jaws dropped open in absolute shock. Coming from two seasoned monster hunters, considering there wasn’t much that could throw them for loop, they looked absolutely dumbfounded. 

Dean’s cat reflexes saved him as he was forced to dive to the side to get out of the way. Ellen and Bobby pounced on Sam without warning, hugging him fiercely and letting out awed sounds as they broke away. 

Bobby gave Sam one final back-cracking hug before holding him at arm’s length. The hunter didn’t even try to hide the water dancing in his eyes, but they seemed to be tears of joy. “Sam, my God…you got tall,” was all the hunter could manage with a chuckle. He was eye-to-eye with the boy, and Sam felt overwhelmed by the reception. 

“You’re alive…my God, Sam, you’re _alive_!” Ellen said. She shot a look at Dean. “Where in the hell--?”

“DWMA, same class as me,” Dean answered before he ducked a swat aimed at him. “What?!”

“You didn’t think to tell us you knew Sam was alive!” She said. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Dean said in his defense. “Merry Christmas! Can’t call me crazy anymore, can you Sammy?”

Sam took a step back from the parents, unsure and uncomfortable. “Wait, I just—I need a second,” he said. The surprise, the joy, the fear, he felt like he had emotional whiplash.

“You need a second? Sam, we thought you’ve been dead for _12 years_ ,” Bobby said, in a surprisingly gentle way. “I think we _all_ need a second.” 

“Catching our death of cold won’t help,” Ellen said, looking up at the heavy gray sky overhead. A heavy wind whipped past, making all of them shudder at its bite. “We’re supposed to get some snow tonight. Come on, inside, all of you.” 

Ellen herded everyone inside. The boys and the parents gathered around the kitchen table and sat down while Jo hopped up on a kitchen countertop. The air was thick with unsure feelings mixed up with joy and surprise. Dean grabbed three bottles of beer out of the fridge, but after Bobby shot him a look he rolled his eyes, put one back, and grabbed three bottles of soda along with the two beers that went to the parents. 

“Sorry, Cas, we aren’t trying to ignore ya, it’s just…” Bobby started after taking a long swig of beer. He kept looking at Sam as if the boy was part of some waking dream. 

Cas shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

Ellen looked at the boy, then at Jo on the countertop. “Cas, actually, would you mind doing a favor? Could you take Jo upstairs and play with her? Let us work out a few things?”

“No fair!” Jo said loudly. She knew there was something up with Sam and her parents, and she wanted to stick around to know what it was. 

“Joanna Beth,” her mother said in a warning tone that dispelled any notions Jo had of trying to plead her case. She shot a look at Dean who shrugged and then at Castiel. 

To be fair, Cas looked like Ellen had suggested he throw his favorite tie in a wood-chipper. Wide-eyed and unsure, he looked at Dean, who helpfully mouthed ‘Good luck’ to him when Ellen wasn’t looking. Nevertheless, Castiel wasn’t one to back down any sort of danger, and so he allowed Jo to lead the way upstairs.

Jo’s room, at first glance, was just like any 10-year old’s. There were things scattered about, like clothes and shoes, and there was a little desk off to the side with school papers on it and a back pack next to it. The bed was small and unmade, there were Legos and Castiel swore a pistol partially dismantled on a dish rag in the corner of the room. Jo motioned for him to sit in the middle of the floor with his back to the large window. 

“Do you want to have a tea party?” Jo asked, arms crossed over her chest, daring him to deny her on her own home turf. 

Castiel nodded. “Sounds interesting. What’s the protocol?”

Jo blinked at that. She knew Dean hated tea parties, so she made him do them with her so she could mess with him. But Castiel looked honestly interested. That deflated her sense of mischief slightly. 

She pulled out a little table from under her bed and pushed a bunch of plastic cups, saucers, and a tea pot towards the weapon. “Set the table,” she ordered before bounding towards her closet. 

Castiel sighed but started setting the little table, making sure each cup was centered on its plate and the pot was in the middle of the table. 

Jo returned with a wicked grin on her face and a long pink dress, covered in rhinestones and embroidery. She held it out to the boy, who held it as it were a bomb. 

“What’s this?” he asked. 

“You have to wear it,” she said innocently. _Look at him freaking out!_

“I—um—don’t really have the—necessary assets for this,” Castiel said after a moment of looking down at himself then at the dress. 

“Look, it’s just—,” Jo said with a sense of annoyance, the right word she wanted escaping her. 

“It’s a formality,” Castiel offered. 

“Yes, exactly! You can’t play without wearing it.” 

Castiel looked at Jo again and narrowed his eyes at her. “How about a compromise. I’ll wear this instead,” he said, holding up the plastic tiara that went with the hideous dress. “Then we can play.”

Jo bit her lip and thought for a moment. As much fun as seeing such a sight might have been, she had to give credit to Castiel’s negotiation skills. Most people either caved or ran the other way. 

“Deal. But I have to call you Prince Cas.” 

“Fine,” Castiel said, relief in his voice as he gave the girl back her trap and placed the tiara on his head, only blushing slightly and praying to every deity that existed that Dean didn’t see him with it on. 

Jo grinned as she tossed the think back in her closest. She was starting to like this Cas guy. 

~*~

Sam sat forward a little and looked at Ellen and Bobby once the others were out of earshot. “When Dean told me he thought we might be related I, well…”

“Thought I was nuts?” Dean offered helpfully. Sam nodded. 

“You don’t…you don’t remember us?” Ellen asked. “Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bobby?” 

Sam shook his head. He’d hoped, God he’d hoped. “No. Even now I…you’re just…strangers. I’m so sorry.”

Ellen patted his arm with affection. “Sam, you were a _kid_. Some people don’t remember that far back. You were, what, three, the last time you were here?” She didn’t look offended at Sam’s confession, which made him breathe a little easier. “It wasn’t until Dean was next to you that I could _see_ it. You two caused me so much grief as little kids. I’m pretty sure you made some of this gray long before it should’ve been,” she joked. 

“Sam, where’s John?” Bobby asked slowly. “Is he…is he still alive too?”

Sam bit his lip. “I dunno. About 6 months ago we got into an argument and I walked out of the motel we were staying at. Before I left town Spirit Alban came and picked me up, drove me to the DWMA to start classes as a freshman. I, uh, dunno what happened to my Dad.”

Bobby looked away, lifting his cap up to scratch his forehead. “They’ve been alive this whole time,” he said, glancing at Ellen. “I can’t believe it. I don’t know whether I want to _hug_ him or _shoot_ him,” he muttered darkly. 

Ellen put a comforting hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “Let’s table the murder. So, Sam, you don’t remember what happened when you were a kid? Do you know what happened to your mom at all?”

“Just what Dad told me. She died in a house fire, right?” Sam asked. 

“That’s part of the story, yeah,” Bobby said. He stood up and paced the kitchen for a moment. “Don’t think the beer’s going to cut it if we’re going to be rehashing _this_ particular history tonight.”

“Not if you still plan on heading out with Rufus,” Ellen reminded him. Bobby swore under his breath. 

“Dammit, you’re right. Sam, we’re going to have to table this tonight. Rufus and I are heading out as soon as he gets his slow ass over here.”

“Mom mentioned kids disappearing. Did you have another one?” Dean asked. 

Ellen shrugged when Bobby gave her a look. “Owen Mills,” Bobby said after a moment.

“ _Sheriff Mills’ kid?_ Oh, wow, a suicidal monster is a new one on me,” Dean said. 

“She’s out for blood, and I don’t blame her. We can’t get a bead on this thing, it never keeps to a specific pattern or movement or anything. Boys, girls, all the way from 4 to 13. Multiracial, multi-religion, nothing ties these kids together except for a birchwood rod usually found in the last place the kid was seen,” Bobby explained. “There’s been 6 so far.”

“We can help, Dad,” Dean said. 

Bobby sighed. “Much as I hate to admit it, some fresh eyes and young blood is what we really need. As soon as Rufus gets here—“ 

“AAAAAAHHHH!!” came a child’s shriek from upstairs.

“Jo, RUN!” yelled Castiel’s gruff voice. A huge crash came from the inside of the room that shook the walls of the whole house, followed by an unearthly howl. The humans were disorientated for a moment at the sound, but that didn’t stop them from stomping upstairs as fast as possible. Ellen lead the charge up to her daughter’s bedroom. 

“JO!!” Ellen screamed as she rushed for the door, only to find it blocked from the inside. 

“Get back!” Dean yelled, and he and Sam shared a look, the same thought crossing their mind. They charged the door at the same time and kicked simultaneously, their combined strength smashed the door open to reveal the girl’s room was an empty wreck. 

A small table was broken, the cups and plates that had been on it were scattered every which way across the hardwood floor. The window was open and the curtain flapping freely in the stiff cold wind from coming in from the north. A few snowflakes were blown inside. 

“Castiel!” Dean yelped when he spied his partner half in the closet, obviously tossed aside with great force. He had a black eye and his lip was split. A drop of blood had stained the light-blue dress shirt he was wearing. Dean kneeled down and felt for a pulse, momentarily relieved to feel a strong Ba-Dum under his fingertip. “Cas, wake up!” 

Castiel’s eyes opened and had a hard time focusing on the freckled face above him, staring at him in concern. “Dean, what--? Where’s Jo?” he got out slowly.

Sam leaned down and picked up a little silver-plated butterfly knife with fresh blood on the blade. “Dean!” he said, eyes wide. 

Dean eyes grew wide as he looked on at horror at the blade. “JO!” he yelled. 

“Save your breath,” Bobby said, and picked up a small birchwood rod that had been dropped on the unkempt bed. “It’s got her.”

~*~

**II**

_She was jostled painfully as the thing ran, leaping and sprinting over unknown obstacles. Her head throbbed and she was encased in something dark and small—it felt like a wicker basket under her outstretched hands She tried to stand but the basket was moving too much, she couldn’t get her feet under her. She pounded against the basket’s walls._

_“Help! Mom, Dad, Dean, HELP!!” She screamed, but something smacked the basket hard, toppling her over._

_“You better let me go, or you’ll be sorry!” Jo screamed at the monster that had kidnapped her. “My parents are the best monster hunters in the world—they’ll find me!”_

_She thought she heard the thing chuckle, but it was hard to tell. The longer it ran, the more scared Jo became. She curled up her legs to her chest and tried not to cry, but tears escaped anyways. She didn’t even have her knife on her._

_“Mom and Dad will find me,” she swore to herself, trying to keep herself calm. “They’ll find me.”_

~*~

“Rufus, I don’t care how many laws you gotta break, get your ass here _yesterday_. The sunovabitch snatched Jo right outta her room!” Bobby snapped into the phone in the kitchen. 

Castiel sat silently in a kitchen chair, the small medical kit open on the table and Ellen currently giving him a once over. Dean and Sam stood off to the side, unsure what to do. 

“Mom, Cas’ll be fine,” Dean said. 

“I’ve had worse,” Castiel reassured her. “I’m a Weapon—we heal faster than normal humans. This’ll go away in an hour.” 

Ellen didn’t listen; instead she started rifling through the kit for gauze, alcoholic pads. She needed to do something until they could figure out what the hell grabbed her daughter. They couldn’t afford to make a mistake and go off half-cocked. 

Ellen glanced at Dean, who was holding the small butterfly knife in his hands, careful to not touch the blood on the blade. He carefully placed the knife on the edge of Bobby’s desk, careful to keep the blade open. He had a feeling the blood could be useful.

When Dean went to the fridge and brought out a sandwich Ellen had packed for Bobby and Rufus’ trip, she snapped. 

“How can you be hungry?!”

“It’s for Cas,” Dean said, handing the lithe weapon the food. “Their metabolism is ridiculous. The more he eats the faster he’ll heal. No band-aids or ice packs needed.” 

Castiel took the sandwich and ate it mechanically, not tasting it at all. He was only fearful for Jo’s safety. 

“Boys, make yourselves useful,” she said. “Check Jo’s room and outside for any clues on what this bastard is.” 

Both boys nodded, Sam heading outside and Dean headed back upstairs. 

“He’ll be here shortly,” Bobby said as he got off the phone. “Now, Cas, please tell me you saw it? What happened?

Castiel ducked his head. “I’m so sorry. My back was to the window. It was only when Jo screamed that I turned and tried to protect her—it backhanded me across the room,” he admitted, hands curled into fists and shaking. He felt personally responsible for the creature’s capture of Jo. It was his job to protect the innocent. 

“You saw absolutely nothing?” Ellen asked. She took his hand. “Please, think about it.” 

“A black form—it was huge. Muscular, hunched over, shouldn’t have been able to fight through that window. Red eyes…possibly horns? It moved so fast,” Castiel said in apology. 

“Not your fault, Cas,” Ellen said. “Sounds like you were lucky it only dinged you up slightly.”

Bobby scratched his head under his cap, thinking hard for a long moment before his eyes lit up. “Balls!” He dashed to the study and started searching for some book in his great chaotic library. Books on shelves, on piles on the floor, they were everywhere, and he started tearing through them frantically. 

Dean’s boots stomped down the stairs and he returned to the kitchen. “Nothing,” he spat. 

Sam ran inside, face flushed from the exertion and cold. “There’s claw marks and these weird scuff marks on the side of the house!” he exclaimed. “It climbed up the side of the house to get to Jo’s room.” 

“What?!” Dean and Ellen said at once. “What did they--?”

“Did any of ‘em look like hoof prints?” Bobby hollered from the study. 

“Uh, actually, I think so,” Sam said, remembering the strange cloven shape to some of the marks on the siding. 

Bobby strode out with a large, old book in his hands. “I can’t freakin’ believe I didn’t put it together before!” the old hunter said with a growl as he dropped the open book down on the kitchen table. Everyone crowded around it, to stare at the wood carving picture that took up a full page. 

“That’s it!” Castiel said excitedly. The creature was huge and black, satyr-ish looking, with horns and a long, bright red tongue. In the picture there was a basket slung over its back, and sticks in one of its clawed hands. 

“Dad…you’ve gotta be kidding me…you actually think we’re dealing with the _Krampus_?” Dean said, disbelief in his voice. 

“If I’m lying I’m dying,” Bobby said. 

“But…the _Anti-Claus_?” 

“What the hell is it?” Sam asked. 

“Know how old Kris Kringle is usually followed around with elves that help him give toys to kids? Well, that’s the child-friendly, modern version of the story. Go a few centuries back and legend has a much more metal little helper for the big guy in the red suit,” Dean started. 

Bobby picked up the narrative. “Germanic lore tells a story of how St. Nick snatched a demon right outta hell and bound it to him. While he left presents for good kids, the Krampus would leave them coal, beat them with birchrod sticks, and sometimes take the misbehaving youngsters to God-knows-where.”

“This is the original ‘Scared Straight,’” Dean said. 

His mother looked wary. “It fits the pattern,” Ellen said. “The kids we all investigated had histories of misbehavior. Hell, Owen Mills bit Jo in class just last week! But why Jo?”

“Mom, we’re hunters. We’re all a little twisted,” Dean said. “The thing that’s getting me is this whole ‘demon’ bit. The Krampus can’t be a demon. All the windows and doorways have salt-encrusted iron framing. Never mind the Devi’s Trap painted on the underside of the rug in her room.” 

“That was the thing I saw,” Castiel said staunchly, tapping the picture and staring Dean directly in the eye. 

“Yeah, but demons don’t look like that,” Dean retorted. “They’re this black smog of evil intent.”

“Then, maybe it’s not a demon like the lore says…maybe it counts as a pagan creature?” Ellen suggested. She turned her head slightly and a tiny gasp escaped her when she turned and saw Castiel’s face was perfectly healed. 

“Told you,” Dean said knowingly.

“If you’re good to go there, Cas, I need you and Sam to help Dean,” Bobby said.

“Anything,” Sam and Cas answered at once. 

“The three of you need to head out back and bring back evergreen stakes,” Bobby said. “El, there should be some lamb’s blood frozen in the freezer downstairs.” 

Dean nodded. He strode over to a closet and pulled out three slightly rusted but still dangerously sharp machetes. “Come on!” he said, handing an unsure Sam and Cas each one. 

“What’re we…?” Castiel asked. 

“Gotta find an evergreen, cut off suitable branches, and make them into stakes. Dip the end in lamb’s blood and we’ve got ourselves our own Pagan-ganking weapons,” Dean said. They grabbed their coats from the back of the kitchen chairs and were out the door. 

“We’ll find her, El,” Bobby said to his worried wife. He gave her a kiss on the head and squeezed her shoulder to comfort her. “Jo’s a Winchester. She’ll be alright.” 

“Bobby,” Ellen said in her calmest voice, the one that spelled disaster for anyone on the receiving end of it. Her eyes were flashing in cold, frightened fury. “Jo is coming back tonight, and she’s coming back _alive_.”

“Damn right she is.”

~*~

_The thing had stopped running and without warning the basket was flipped over, dumbing her out onto a patch of cold, muddy ground. It was dark around her, she couldn’t see a damn thing, but the stench of decay and wet earth made her think of a cave or something. Somewhere out of the way and alone._

_A clawed hand picked her up by the back of her t-shirt and carried her squirming and fighting form until it dropped her into a pit dug into the ground. She fell a few feet and landed on her back hard, the wind getting knocked out of her worse than the actual impact. Luckily no rocks had been under her. She slowly climbed to her feet and swore colorfully (it would’ve made Bobby blush with pride as long as Ellen wasn’t around to see it) as a glowing red eye peered down at her._

_“Let me go or I’ll take the other one!” she snarled, her tiny voice echoing around the pit._

_There was a snarling howl and a stick poked her hard in the shoulder, knocking her back onto her butt in the cold earth surrounded her. She looked up indignantly but the thing was already gone._

_She was shaking, from the cold (South Dakota right before Christmas was usually cold and she only had her long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers on), and from the terror. She acted tough but Jo wasn’t stupid. She was scared stiff, and just as she was about to cry she heard a snuffling noise a few feet away. The pit must’ve been bigger than she realized because she could hear someone else in there with her. A boy about her age, she figured._

_“Who’s there?” she demanded. She put one hand on the wall and held one out before her to feel for anything before her. She started shuffling around the edge of the pit, unsure what she might find. With a moment, her hand touched a head of mud-caked hair._

_“Don’t hurt me!” a little boy’s voice said. She heard him shuffle backwards in panic, but the cave was so dark she couldn’t see anything._

_“Don’t run away!” she said. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I got kidnapped too. Are you okay?”_

_The boy sniffled again. “My arm really hurts. Can’t move it,” he said in a pitifully wrecked voice._

_“Let me see?” she asked gently._

_“But…how can you…?”_

_A flick of metal later and Jo’s face was lit up by a metal zippo lighter. She’d snatched it from Dean’s pocket the second he got home. She’d planned to use it as collateral to get  
him to play with her, but that was before Cas had agreed to play. The teenager sounded wiered but he was very smart and she was suddenly worried about him. He’d gotten tossed across the room because he’d tried to stand up for her. No weapons or anything, he just tried to protect her unarmed. _

_“Idjit,” she muttered under her breathe, though she was secretly in awe about it. She expected that from her family but a stranger?_

_“I’m not an…*sniff* idiot,” the boy said. Jo could see he was wearing pajamas with little superheroes on them, and his body was covered in mud. He was cradling his right arm to his chest protectively, and even with the mud on his face she recognized him._

_“Owen?”_

_“Jo?” Now Owen really looked nervous of her. “I…uh…sorry I tried to bite you. I have…issues,” he said with sincere apology._

_“We’ll hash it out later,” Jo said. She looked at his arm and sighed. “Can you move it? Your hand at all?”_

_Owen shook his head._

_“Guess it got broke,” Jo said, feeling helpless. She looked around and saw the walls were easily twice her height and dug straight down into the earth. Everywhere was cold and wet, and the boy was sniffling and shivering violently._

_Jo sat next to him and wrapped her arm around the boy, pulling him into her side. “With your Mom and my parents looking for us, we’ll be back at home before Christmas.”_

_“This monster is going to eat us!” Owen said in fear. “I think there’s other kids here—we’ll never get out!”_

_“We will,” Jo promised. “I don’t lie. My Mom and my Dad are the best in the business. Everything will be okay,” she said, patting his head in reassurance. “We’ll be okay.”_

~*~

Wood shavings littered the kitchen floor and table as the teenagers turned the collection of evergreen limbs they’d gathered into stakes with a devastatingly sharp point on one end. Dean only had to show the others the basic gist of it before they were cranking out more than enough stakes to kill the Krampus. 

Ellen was the stove, stirring something in a pot that had the boys wrinkling their noses in disgust. Sam pulled the neck of his shirt over his nose but that did little to stem the stench of burning copper that assaulted him. Castiel stopped smoothing the edge of his stake and tied to breathe through his tie, but of little avail. Finally, he couldn’t help himself with he noticed Dean wasn’t even reacting to the smell. 

“Dean, what is that?” the weapon asked. 

“Sorry, might’ve had the lamb’s blood turned up too much,” Ellen said. 

“Welcome to the wonderful world of hunting. It’s a disgusting job that requires more bodily fluids and other disgusting things than you ever wanted to know about,” Dean said simply with a shrug. 

A low murmuring caught everyone’s attention, and all the boys leaned back into their chairs to peer into the study and see Bobby standing over his desk. There was a map of the town laid out, and over it he held a metal arrow dangling from a chord. He continued muttering under his breath as he rubbed the metal pendent over the bloody knife blade. Immediately the pendulum began swinging wildly even as the hunter stood still as stone. His voice sounded soft, as if coaxing the pendent into swinging faster and faster. 

“Tracking spell,” Dean said. 

“Is your father a witch?” Castiel asked with narrowed eyes. 

“No! He just… _knows_ things,” Dean said. He’d learned long ago to not question his Dad’s extensive knowledge of all things occult. 

A phone on the wall rang and Ellen picked it up. She couldn’t even get it to her ear over the noise coming from it. “Hello?...Rufus! Why are there sirens in the background?...Dammit Rufus, Bobby didn’t mean to literally get the law on your ass!” Ellen hissed. “You think Sheriff Mills is following you? Well, don’t bring her here! Lose her!” 

Bobby came striding in from the study with a determined swagger and grabbed the phone from Ellen. “Rufus—okay, barring the fact that you’re an idjit of the highest degree, I got a location. The Silverside Mine off of Jackson’s property, know it? It’s any abandoned mine off of route 658….just give her the slip, Rufus! We don’t need civilians distracting the damned thing! Meet us there in 20 minutes.” 

“Dad, you’re sure? That old mine?” Dean asked.

“That’s where the arrow pointed,” Bobby said. “Dip as many of those in the blood as possible and let’s go.” 

They rushed from the house with Ellen carrying a duffel bag over her shoulder with the stakes, plus a few sawed-off shotguns and a few silver knives thrown in for good measure. They didn’t make a run for the Impala—instead they piled into Dean’s Chevelle. Dean gave the keys to his father willingly and the three boys crammed themselves into the backseat. 

Sam was careful to maneuver his legs around his backpack, though the back pack was the least of his worries. He couldn’t believe something had the gall to hurt Cas and take Jo—he hoped for everyone’s sakes that the little girl—his cousin—was alright. 

~*~

The road wound through a patch of black woods, the Chevelle the only car on the road despite the relative earliness of the evening—night had fallen maybe an hour ago. Considering they were heading away from the heart of Sioux Falls and off into rural country. Most sane people were probably out shopping, gathering last minute gifts for Christmas. 

They were about to go and try to kill a child-kidnapping monster and try to get their daughter/sister back from said monster. 

There certainly was never a dull moment when you were a hunter. 

Bobby was driving fast but smoothly. While Dean might have been able to get them there faster, the car might have put up more of a fight by shaking and rattling violently at the higher speed. Bobby knew exactly what the old boy’s top was, and was careful to keep it there the whole time they drove. The air in the car was nothing but worry and anxiety. 

“Oh, balls,” Bobby growled when he looked into the rearview mirror and saw blue and red flashing lights. They were on a patch of straight asphalt, and the cop car was at least half a mile behind them. The car was coming up fast behind them, and there were another car in front of it gunning straight for them—

“Hold on!” Bobby jerked the car over onto the side of the shoulder, cut the engine and killed the lights. Ten seconds later a rickety pickup truck whipped past, followed closely by the police car blaring its siren as it chased the truck that in no way, shape, or form should’ve been moving that quickly. 

“Was that Rufus?” Dean asked from the back seat. 

“It looks like he’s leading her right to the mines,” Ellen said. “Just drive Bobby!”

The car peeled off the shoulder and flew up the road, everyone inside watching as the cop tried several times to honk their horn and order him to “Pull over!” over the loudspeaker but the truck didn’t hesitate. Eventually he slowed but only so he could whip onto a dirt road that the cop overshot. As the police car slammed on its brakes (leaving a pair of black tire marks down a stretch of the road), Bobby followed the pickup truck down the pothole-filled dirt road that popped out before an old mine. It was surrounded by a chain-link fence, a mud-splattered “No Trespassing” sign visible in the two pairs of headlights. 

“She’s gonna be right on our asses,” Bobby said before flinging the door open and gesturing angrily at the black man that climbed out of the truck’s cab. “Rufus! Act drunk!” 

“Why the hell for?” Rufus demanded. “She was the one profiling me!” 

Ellen, catching onto Bobby’s plan, turned to the boys. “Get in there and find your sister,” she ordered them. “ As soon as we can, we’ll come find you. Go!” She shoved the duffel bag at them just as they heard the sirens of the car coming down the road, its lights flashing eerily through the trees. 

Dean, Sam, and Cas bolted from the car with their heads low, putting the truck and car between them and the approaching cop. They leapt for the fence and shimmied up it in impressive time, but Sam managed to get up and over before Dean and Cas even hit the fence. 

Dean gave Sam a look but tossed the duffle over the fence for him to catch. Within seconds all three were inside the fence line and snuck to the caves entrance just as the cop pulled up. 

“Hands on your heads!” the female voice yelled over the speaker. 

Bobby and Ellen put their hands on their heads, and yelled at Rufus. “Do what she said!” 

“I’m goin’!” Rufus yelled back, his hands on his head too. The cop leapt from the car and had her gun pointed right at the three adults, but no one moved. 

“Winchesters?” came the Sheriff’s female voice. Even with the bulky jacket and wide-brimmed hat, they knew exactly who it was from her stern demeanor. 

“Howdy Sheriff,” Bobby said with false cheer. 

“What are you two doing?”

“Trying to keep him outta trouble,” Ellen said, motioning towards Rufus. 

“Well, I didn’t need the civilian assist,” Sheriff Mills snapped. “You were going 95 in a 45. How the hell you got this old beater to go 95 miles per hour is beyond me, and now I’m going to tack on refusing to stop and obstruction of justice to the list!” she shouted at Rufus. 

“You’re parents are in real trouble,” Castiel quietly observed as they started into the dark mine shaft. 

“My folks hunt vampires and wendigoes for a 9-5,” Dean hissed. “I’m not worried about Sheriff Mills.” 

Dean reached into his pocket and swore. “Lost my lighter, shit. How can we see in the dark?”

Sam pulled out a small flashlight from his pocket and passed out three stakes for each boy. fThey glanced back at the cars and flashing lights and could hear distinct yelling, but as they crept farther into the pitch blackness, even that was left behind. 

~*~

They crept silently down the twisting, turning earthen tunnel. The utter darkness that surrounded them was suffocating—each kept his eyes on the little circle of light that led the way, while also looking for clues. So far, there didn’t seem to be any evidence of the Krampus or his victims.

Castiel cast a quick glance at Dean. His meister had that determined stride and that look of intensity that could’ve easily scared anyone who didn’t know him. Dean was only 16, yet he already had the look of a trained killer in his emerald eyes—it hurt Castiel when he realized his partner probably had that look down before he’d even entered the DWMA. 

Dean stopped suddenly; he grabbed the light from Sam and pointed it at the ceiling above them. Scratches were gouged right into the rock face, and the paleness of the lines meant they were recent. “Well, I’m guessing that’s not Spider-Bear making those marks,” Dean said. 

Sam shushed him, then pointed to his ear. They all paused—yes, they could hear it, yelling, like a child’s terrified scream in the distance—

“Jo!” Dean shot forward without warning, forcing Sam and Castiel to try and chase after the shaking beam of light ahead of them. 

“Dean, come back!” Sam called out. 

There was light flickering on a wall ahead of them, and they came skidding out of the tunnel into a large cavern. The bright light from a huge bonfire near the back of it blinded them momentarily, making them lift their arms to shield their eyes. 

“Let me go!” a voice screeched, and Dean whipped his hand back to see the huge hulking creature bent over a hole in the ground and lifting out a certain blonde haired sibling. The Krampus’ long red tongue dragged over the side of her face, making her squirm in its grip. “Gross!” she shouted. 

“Hey!” Dean yelled. Both the Krampus and Jo looked up at the three intruders. Dean saw one of the Krampus’ eyes was missing, bloody hole left when the eye had been gouged out. That’s where the blood on Jo’s blade had come from, he realized with a swell of pride. 

“Get away from her you DICK!” Dean yelled, stake at the ready in his hands. Sam and Castiel gripped theirs tightly, ready for anything. 

The Krampus howled and tossed Jo to the side; she almost went bouncing back into the hole but caught herself on the edge and hung on. “Help me!” 

Dean launched himself at the monster with all of his Meister speed and grace. The Krampus, though it was a part goat-part man monster built like a tank, had agility that caught the young meisters unawares. Dean leapt for the monster’s chest, determined to stab it in the heart, but the Krampus side-stepped the attack and leapt up to the ceiling. Its claws dug into the ceiling and despite cloven feet it was able to hang above them like some nightmarish spider. 

Sam hauled back and threw his stake like a spear at the monster—it caught it in the shoulder. Losing its grip it dropped to the ground with a howl. The ground shook under its hooves at the impact but it brushed the stake off like it was merely an annoyance. Sam looked panicked as he took several steps back from the creature, fumbling around in the duffle across his shoulder for another stake. 

“Sammy, run!” Dean shouted. 

Castiel slid in the mud but dove forward and successfully grabbed Jo’s hands just as she was about to take a 6-foot fall back to the bottom. He pulled her up quickly and wrapped his arms around her protectively, using himself as a shield. He dashed to safety, getting to the other side of the cave and out of the way of the fighting.

“Are you hurt?” he asked in a surprisingly calm manner, assessing her. Mud-covered and more than likely scared out of her mind, Jo looked rather well considering the circumstances. 

“I’m okay!” she managed to say before another roar made them turn back.

Sam worked free another stake and flung it haphazardly at the Krampus, catching it in the side of the head with the heavier end and making the creature momentarily disoriented. It was just enough of a window for Dean to leap on the Krampus from behind and stab the stake through its back, but the Krampus flung it body around wildly like a bucking bronco. Dean was sent skidding across the mud and rock-covered ground. 

Sam helped Dean back to his feet and handed him another stake just as the monster reached around its back and ripped the stake free. Castiel noticed not just blood come gushing out but a familiar, eerie red glow spill from the wound as well. 

“Last one!” Sam yelled, tossing the now empty duffel over his head. 

“That should’ve killed it!” Dean yelled back, anger and revenge dampened with confusion and now uncertainty. “What the hell _is_ it?!”

The Krampus was now pissed, and as it turned its hideous devilish face with its one glowing red eye and long tongue hanging from its open mouth, the boys realized at the same time the tables were turning against them. It took a step forward and gnashed its long teeth at them hungrily. 

“I’ve got to help your brother,” Castiel told Jo gently. “Stay. Here.” He cast a final glance around the cavern he saw there was no immediate danger to the young girl, and he made a mad dash for the Krampus. 

“It’s a kishin-egg!” Castiel roared as he sprinted towards his meister. “Kishin-egg!” 

The Krampus whipped around to grab the lithe weapon in its monstrous hands but a rock bounced off its cheek, making it snarl angrily. It whipped around to see Sam already started to jog off into the tunnels. “Come and get me, ugly!” Sam taunted. 

The kishin-egg stomped forward and started chasing Sam earnestly, and the meister put on a burst of speed that surprised even the monster chasing him. He pulled another small flashlight out from his pocket and lit the path before him, but the ground whipped past in a blur. The Krampus was right on his heels, but Sam kept running, hoping to led the thing outside to give Dean a better chance at nailing it. 

Finally, the exit! He ducked and wove about in a serpentine pattern, hoping to keep the creature off of him. It wasn’t until he got to the mine’s entrance that he realized his stupidity, for there were the cars still parked, including the Sheriff’s vehicle. Bobby, Ellen, and Rufus were all talking at once to the Sheriff as they sat against the hood of her car, all apparently cuffed. Even so, Mills turned around in time to see the teenager come dashing out of the mine’s entrance. 

“Hey, you can’t be there--!” 

Sam didn’t hear the rest of it, he was tackled from behind. He twisted and landed on his back with a _WHUMP!_ That knocked the air right out of him. The Krampus was there above him, baring down and ready to try and bite his head right off. The stake was still in his hands, and he used it to try and shield himself from the kishin-egg, hitting it in the face with it like a bat. 

The Krampus ripped the stake from his hands and flung it away and it wrapped its long fingers around the boy’s neck, intent to strangle the very life from the meister. He grabbed at the fingers, the claws started digging into his neck, and his vision started going black. He fought back, kicked, tried to squirm away, but the Krampus took a moment to savor its victory and licked a trail up Sam’s cheek with its long tongue. 

Sam couldn’t say what happened after that. He was almost dead, knew it was about to happen, and he got furious. No, no way. He wasn’t about to let everything he’d done be in vain. He wasn’t about to let some kishin-egg kill him. Not like this. Not after meeting Ellen and Jo and Bobby. He wasn’t about to lose them, or they him. 

With a sudden burst of unexplained strength, Sam curled his long legs up under him and kicked the Krampus in the chest. The creature stumbled backwards at the force of the blow and collapsed against the wall of the mine with a dazed look on its face. It snarled and was getting back to its feet, wobbly on its cloven hooves, when Sam smashed a rock into the side of its face, forcing it down to one knee with a roar of pain. 

_SHLIP!_ The Krampus let out a surprised croak before it fell over, Dean jerking a silver blade from its back just as it hit the ground and disappeared like ash in a breeze. The only evidence of the infamous Krampus was its glowing red soul. 

“Thanks for the distraction,” Dean said. 

“Thanks for not letting it eat me,” Sam quipped. 

They shared a goofy grin of a job well done, exhilarated just to be alive, just as they heard: “What in the flying hell was that?!” from the direction of the cars. 

Dean waved at the Sheriff pointing her gun at them from behind her driver side door. “Hey Sheriff Mills!” he said tiredly. He dropped Castiel’s weapon behind his back and Castiel reappeared, crouched behind his meister as he grabbed the soul and swallowed it. He slowly crept out from behind Sam and Dean, hands up. 

“Where’s Jo!” Bobby, Ellen, and Rufus all yelled at once, and Dean immediately swore. 

“Dammit, Baby Girl!” He whipped around and ignored the Sheriff’s order to stop, ready to dash back into the cave, but it was unnecessary. From the mouth of the cave came the shuffling forms of six missing kids, dressed in everything from school clothes to pajamas, looking dirty, hungry, and exhausted. Leading the pack was Jo, holding Owen Mills’ good hand and helping him walk out of the cave entrance. 

Dean dashed forward and snatch up his sister in a death-grip hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he told her sternly but was just relieved she was okay. 

“Mommy?” Owen called out towards the vehicles, and the Sheriff stood shocked for several seconds. When it finally registered who was calling for her, she almost ripped the fence down to get to her son. 

~*~

“So, you’re telling me a monster called the Krampus kidnapped all these kids, and your son along with his two friends saved their lives?” Mills managed to ask in a bored, businesslike tone. 

“That’s the gist of it,” Bobby said. 

Mills looked down at her notepad and sighed. “You aren’t actually expecting me to report that, do you?” 

Ellen handed her a business card. “He’ll straighten out any questions your supervisor might have. But, I suggest you just tell them you found the kids because of a tip. Leave us out of it, thank you.” 

“Your kids are heroes,” Mills said honestly. She peered into the Chevelle and allowed herself to crack a smile at the image. Sam, Dean, and Cas were crammed into the back seat with Jo stretched across them like a cat, a blanket thrown over her. All were asleep; Castiel’s head on Dean’s shoulder as they snored on in exhaustion. 

“Saving people, hunting things, it’s the family business,” Bobby said with a relieved grin. 

Mills looked down at the card once more. “Viktor Henrickson, huh? I’ll definitely call. In the meantime, you and yours need to get out of here. You’ve got about ten minutes before the ambulances get here. Thank God all the kids are alive.” 

“Will Owen be okay?” Ellen asked. 

Mills looked into the back of her police car, her son curled up in a ball with a blanket around his shoulders and the car’s heat on full blast. “Broken wrist or arm by the looks of it, but…if that’s all? It’s a Christmas miracle. Thank you, again.” 

“So…does this mean you can drop all those charges from earlier?” Rufus piped up. “And…maybe uncuff me?” he asked, wiggling his fingers at them. 

“Just don’t get on my bad side again, Turner,” Mills said. She uncuffed the man and shooed the hunters away. “Merry Christmas!” she told them as they drove away. Just as their tail lights disappeared around the bend, a colorful caravan descended on the abandoned mine, and Jody steeled herself for a long night of inquiry and lying. A few snowflakes started to fall from the sky above.

At least Owen would be in her arms, alive and safe, at the end of it.


	29. Thicker Than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Family don't end with blood, boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers! Sorry for the long delay—this was supposed to be a Christmas arc, but holiday stress, family, and a crazy work schedule actually made me suffer from severe sleep deprivation. I couldn’t do anything more than stare at my computer for most of the past few weeks. Again, I’m sorry! Please enjoy this newest update!

_Gnashing teeth. That long, blood red tongue leaving a trail of hot slime on his cheek. The pitch black eyes like a shark’s, lifeless and alien, staring into his heart, his soul, searing it. It was playing with him as his eyesight went black; its stinking breathe huffed onto his face the last sensation he would know while alive—_

“Sam!” Someone shook his shoulder and Sam jerked free from the nightmare. Sam reacted instinctively and threw a punch—whoever it was managed to dodge the hit with a burst of dizzying speed. 

“C-Cas?” Sam asked, finally seeing the weapon next to him the backseat of the car. There was no one else around, though he could see they were parked in front of Dean’s house once more. 

“Bobby, Ellen, and Dean rushed Jo inside so they could check the extent of her injuries,” Castiel provided. His eyes narrowed in concern as he looked Sam up and down. “Are you alright?”

Sam did a mental check, and except for the compulsive urge to strip and take a hot shower, he wasn’t too bad. A few scrapes he could feel on his hands and knees, but it was nothing some—

_GROOOOWL._

\--food couldn’t fix. Sam and Castiel both looked down at Sam’s stomach, and Castiel’s answered with its own grumble. 

“Kishin-eggs take a lot of energy to kill,” Castiel said in solidarity. 

Sam grabbed his backpack from under the seat and followed Castiel inside. The interior of the car had been nice and warm, and the falling flakes were becoming more numerous as the night wore on. The air was biting cold and the two teenagers hustled inside. 

Jo was on sitting on the kitchen table, being crushed in the arms of both her mother and her father as they hugged her once again. Dean already had the medical kit from earlier, and Rufus placed several celebratory beers on the table from the fridge. 

“Thank God you’re alright,” Ellen said into her daughter’s shoulder, shaking in relief. 

Bobby pulled back and started checking her over. “Any injuries, sweetheart?”

Ellen pulled back and Jo patted her arms, stomach, legs, and her head. “I’m okay!” she affirmed. She whipped around and spied Rufus. “Uncle Rufus, you’re knife saved me!” 

“Is that where the butterfly knife came from?” Ellen asked, glancing at the hunter. 

He shrugged. “I, uh, know you didn’t want her to have one—“

“I’ve never been so glad you’re so hard-headed!” Bobby said with a laugh. “Good thinking on your feet, Jo. The blood on the blade let us work a spell to find you.” 

Jo looked both scared and prideful. “Thanks Daddy. What _was_ that thing?”

“The Anti-Claus,” Dean piped up. “He kidnaps bad kids.” 

“I’m not bad!” Jo started, then stopped and shook her head. “I promise I’ll never be bad _again_.” 

“I give it three days,” Dean said in a teasing way. It was obvious that Dean was just relieved his sister was safe once again. 

It was Castiel’s growling stomach that interrupted the family’s reunion. “Sorry,” Castiel said sheepishly when several pairs of eyes locked on him. “Fighting takes a lot of energy.”

“I bet it does. We’ve got an upstairs and downstairs bathroom. You’ll have to take turns but showers are up for grabs. And anything you can find in the cabinets or fridge is free reign,” Bobby offered. 

“Baby Girl goes first,” Dean said. “You stink to high Heaven from that cave.” 

“And you smell like icky _boy_ ,” Jo shot back. 

Ellen grabbed Jo’s hand and led her through the kitchen to the hallway; along the way Jo broke free and gave both Castiel and Sam bear hugs around their waists, thanking them, her doe eyes soft and innocent for once. Sam laughed and hugged her back; Castiel looked a little lost but followed Sam’s lead, even smiling. As Ellen and Jo disappeared hand-in-hand, Jo’s voice spoke up:

“Mom, when can I have my knife back?” 

~*~

The shower warmed him up and loosened his stiffened muscles. He felt a lot better until he got out and got dressed and realized his sleeping pants ended at his ankles. _That’s weird_ , Sam thought to himself. He always wore overly-baggy clothes anyway, but his pants were too short? And his shirt was a little tighter than he remembered?

_They must’ve shrunk in the washer_ , he told himself, and hoped no one noticed. Sam stepped out of the bathroom rubbing his towel through his shaggy hair. He was clean, and full from dinner. Sam stood there for a moment, feeling odd. He wasn’t used to such hospitality—Dean had to essentially threaten him to eat. He was used to finding food on his own, sneaking hasty showers. At least he wasn’t the only one who looked horribly confused. Castiel seemed just as lost as Sam, so at least he wasn’t the only odd man out. 

Dean appeared before him in the hallway, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweats, hair slicked back from the shower he’d had himself. 

“Cas just reminded me that we need to talk to Lord Death, tell him about ganking Sandy Claws,” Dean said with a grin. “And thank you, for helping get Jo back,” he added with sincerity. 

“Of course,” Sam said. He dropped his backpack off in what was mostly likely Dean’s room at some point; there were pin-ups in revealing swimsuits and movie posters, a bed, and a dresser; the rest of the room was bare. Sam had seen Dean and Castiel’s apartment only a few times and it was pretty minimalistic, and now he was starting to see that Dean hadn’t just packed light, he hadn’t had anything else to bring. 

Dean whistled down the hallway and a few silent seconds later Castiel appeared in the doorway. The old t-shirt and sweatpants were easily two sizes too big for his smaller frame; he looked like a little kid wearing his dad’s old classic rock shirt. Cas looked around Dean’s room with interest that even the bareness of the room didn’t detour. Dean leaned over the top of the dresser and blew a puff of hot air onto the mirror’s surface before scrawling the numbers to contact Death on the glass. 

The Grim Reaper appeared in their mirror with a bounce and a cheerful wave. “Dean, Castiel, Sam! It’s good to hear from you. Did you get back home alright?”

“Yes sir. We’re in Sioux Falls right now,” Dean said to the reaper. “Actually, sir, we wanted to let you know that we, uh, ran into some trouble as soon as we got here.” 

“Oh? What sort of trouble?” 

“Ever heard of something called the Krampus?” Castiel asked. Though the reaper’s skull head had no flesh, it still managed to look vaguely surprised. 

“You ran into _The Krampus_?” Lord Death asked. 

“As soon as we got to my house, the kishin-egg ninjaed its way into my house and kidnapped my baby sister,” Dean said. There was still a hint of anger that it had happened at all. “Cas, Sam, and my parents were able to track down the bas—monster and kill it. Managed to save the other kids it had collected too.” 

The Reaper looked at them thoughtfully. “You kids never cease to surprise me! The Krampus has been on our Most Wanted list for the past two hundred years! Even our most skilled Meisters haven’t been able to quite catch it.”

“You’ve been hunting this thing for two centuries?” Dean asked in surprise. 

“Not only is it incredibly tough to kill, it’s exceptionally cunning. Er, it was,” Death corrected himself. “Since the Krampus is, er, was, only active one week a year and both the locations and victims of its attacks are chosen at random, its proven almost impossible to track over the years, even by skilled Meisters. I don’t know how you got the drop on it, but I don’t really care. The Krampus is gone, for that I applaud you.”

“Thank you, sir,” all three boys said at once. 

“Now, do go and try to enjoy your vacation, yes? I would say you’ve earned it!” the Grim Reaper said cheerfully. The image in the mirror faded back to a simple reflection of the three teenagers. 

“Guys, we killed the Anti-Claus!” Dean said, throwing an arm around Castiel’s and Sam’s shoulders. “We’re _awesome_!” 

~*~

“I’m surprised at you! Three 1-star meisters managed to get the drop on the Krampus before you did?” the Grim Reaper said as he turned from his mirror to tower over a teenage boy in a black suit with three horizontal white stripes on one side of his head. Two girls in blue cowboy hats, red tops, and denim shorts stood behind their meister. The taller girl looked downcast and the shorter one simply shrugged. 

“Like I was saying before, Father, that wasn’t normal!” Death the Kid said vehemently. 

“It’s true. A meister as old and as experienced as you are shouldn’t have missed,” Death pointed out. 

“You can’t miss what you don’t shoot!” the Grim Reaper’s son younger weapon, Patty, exclaimed cheerfully. 

“You didn’t even take a shot?” Death asked. 

“I had tracked the Krampus to that cave. I watched the meisters go in, and a few minutes later the Krampus chased the taller one, Sam, out of the cave and attacked him.”

“Kid tried to take the shot but was, um, distracted,” Kid’s other weapon, Liz said. 

“Distracted?” Death asked. 

Kid pinched his nose in irritation. “Father, I’ve been tracking the Krampus for years, and it’s been a challenge. It’s been difficult for me to try and destroy a monster so perfectly bilateral! But when it chased out that meister and attacked it—“ Kid shuddered and moaned. “It was missing an eye! It’s left eye was nothing but a bloody hole! I was so surprised, shocked, taken aback—“

“He freaked,” Liz provided. 

“He was rolling around on the ground like he had ants in his pants!” Patty added with a cheerful giggle. 

Death sighed. “I was really hoping you’d grown out of that little tic of yours over the subsequent centuries. What was cute when you were a baby is starting to become a real problem.” 

Kid cleared his throat. “Dad, this isn’t the main problem! This 1-star meister managed to fight the Krampus back without his Weapons, with barely any experience!” Kid’s eyes were an eerie yellow color, and they flashed when he spoke.

“The Winchesters and their Weapons have proven themselves remarkably capable this year,” Death said fondly. 

“I don’t think this was natural skill at work, Dad.” 

The Grim Reaper managed to look suspicious. “You really think Sam is…enhancing himself in some way?”

“The Krampus was brought to its knees by a kick and a rock to the face. You tell me,” Kid said with his arms crossed over his body. 

Death looked away. “I really hate to distrust a student, Kid, you know that. He’s done nothing to make me suspect him of anything, except maybe a bit of a prideful streak. I just think you’re frustrated you lost the Krampus.” Death floated over to his son and smacked him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. “You’ll just have to do better next time, son.”

“Yes sir,” Liz said. 

“You got it, scary Skeleton man!” Patty said with a salute. 

Kid sighed in defeat. “Yes, sir.” There was a gleam in his yellow eyes. He wasn’t about to let this go so easily. 

~*~

The boys had just gotten through the library when they came up to the sliding doors that separated it and found them closed, hushed voices coming from the other side. Jo was asleep on the couch and curled up in a ball under a blanket, the toll from the day wearing her out until someone woke her up for dinner. 

“I’m just surprised she passed out like that,” a voice whispered from the kitchen. Dean cocked his head (in a very Castiel-like manner, Sam realized) and he tip-toed up to the doors, clearly intent to eavesdrop. He motioned for Sam and Cas to follow his lead, and the three of them stuck their ears to the doors to listen to the adults in the kitchen. There was an inch of space between the doors themselves, just enough for Sam to see Ellen, Bobby, and Rufus sitting around the kitchen table with shot glasses and a bottle of vodka between them. 

“Please don’t jinx it,” Ellen said in a whisper. “At least before, if Jo had a nightmare, I could tell her the house was the safest place to be away from monsters….” She knocked back another shot of alcohol. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Jo never wanted to be by herself in that room again after tonight.”

“Jo’s tougher than that,” Bobby said, trying to reassure her. 

“Our daughter almost got _eaten_ tonight!” Ellen snapped. “Thank God Dean came home today. If he hadn’t been here…”

Bobby put a calming hand on her shoulder. “There’s no point in crying over milk that almost spilt but didn’t,” he said. “The missing kids are safe, Jo’s safe, they’re all safe.”

“That was too close,” she said under her breath, shooting Bobby a look that was both relief and an accusation. 

“You think I like the idea of my kids’ lives being on the line like that? It’s not exactly doing anything good for my ticker,” Bobby growled back. He then shot a glare at Rufus. “And you! I know you haven’t heard of it, but there’s this newfangled idea called ‘subtly’ you might want to look into for future reference.”

“What does that mean, Bubby?”

“It means when you’re hunting a monster you generally try _not_ to get the law on your ass while you’re at it.” 

Before Rufus could retort Ellen held up her hands between them. “Can we just count our lucky stars that this night is over, please?” she said. The two men rolled their eyes but nodded. Ellen filled up their shot glasses one last time and they clinked them together in a silent toast of congratulations. 

“By the way, didn’t get the names of those two tagalongs you had today,” Rufus said. 

“Well, the one with the hair and trench coat is Cas, Dean’s Weapon partner from school,” Ellen supplied. 

“Okay, so who’s the other kid? I swear I’m getting this weird ass déjà vu thing going on with that kid,” Rufus mumbled under his breath. 

Bobby and Ellen shared a look. “Actually, it’s not all that weird considering he’s our nephew,” Bobby said. 

Rufus swirled his glass tumbler around with a thoughtful look on his face until he stopped swirling the glass and just gave the couple that shocked expression. “No, wait, wait, wait. You can’t mean….no way… _Sam_? Baby Sam?”

“One and the same,” Bobby said quietly. 

“…Holy shit,” Rufus said after a wide-eyed moment. “So then…John’s alive?”

“Until I get my hands on him,” Bobby growled. 

“Honey—“ Ellen started, but her husband cut her off with a glare. 

“No! I’m not going to forgive this so easily. My brother and nephew have been alive this whole goddamned time and he couldn’t tell me that? Write a letter, make a phone call, _show up_?” Bobby hissed angrily. 

“What did Sam says been happening?” Rufus asked. 

“We didn’t get a chance to clear anything up,” Bobby said. “Krampus snatched Jo almost as soon as they got here. Dean’s been holding out on this so he could surprise us. Well, it was a nice damned surprise, but I don’t think Dean remembers what happened either. If he did, I don’t think he would’ve been so nonchalant.” 

“Sam says he doesn’t remember a thing, and hasn’t talked to his father in 6 months,” Ellen answered, seeing Bobby going off into tangent town. 

“He doesn’t remember what?” Rufus asked. 

“Us. You. Mary. Anything,” Bobby clarified. “That’s what he claims, anyway.”

“Why would he lie about it?” Ellen shot back quietly. 

“I don’t know! But…how does someone not remember _that_?”

“Remember what?” The three adults turned, slightly startled to see the teenager in question standing in the kitchen with them, a scowl on his face. The fact that he had managed to sneak into the kitchen without any of the professional hunters noticing spoke to how intently they had been whisper-arguing with each other. Dean and Castiel also stood there, their faces unreadable. 

“No, really, what? What the hell is it I’m supposedly not remembering?” Sam asked again, his voice a little harder than he meant it to be, but he could feel himself getting pissed at them. They were tiptoeing around him, treating him like a fragile ceramic vase that might break any second. He was sick and tired of getting treated like an armed bomb. He wasn’t _like_ that. 

Sam smacked a fist down onto the kitchen table angrily. It was hard to tell who was more surprised, the adults or Sam himself. He could feel the anger simmering inside him, churning in his gut and making his hands shake. He never lashed out like this. He immediately pulled his hand back, looking at it like it had moved all on its own. 

“God, I’m sorry, I just…I _hate_ secrets,” he said, looking down, feeling shameful. Mentally he winced at the hypocritical statement he’d just uttered. 

“Then what the hell is going on, Dad?” Dean demanded. The fact that Dean looked just as confused as Sam made him feel less alone, less like the entire family was dragging him along on a string for whatever reason. 

Bobby got to his feet, and even though Sam was about his height, the older man had a lot more size on the lanky teenager. The old hunter lifted his hand and Sam unconsciously flinched, causing Bobby’s eyes to narrow. His hand landed on Sam’s shoulder with a firm grip that was oddly comforting. 

“I don’t like secrets either, Sam,” Bobby said in agreement. “Come on.” He motioned for the three teenagers to take a seat. Luckily the dining room table could seat 8, and even with the mountain of lore books and shavings from the earlier stake-making, there was still some free space to sit. Ellen got up and brought back beers for the adults, causing Dean to whine. 

“Come on, Mom, let us have some of the good stuff too! We deserve it!” 

Ellen blinked at him in surprise at his audacity, but her eyes grew wide when both Bobby and Rufus shrugged. “They _did_ do good today, El,” Bobby said with a sheepish shrug. 

She sighed. “You get one,” she said, handing water bottles to Sam and Castiel but skipping Dean. It was hard to tell who was more surprised, Ellen or her son. 

“Holy crap that _worked_?” Dean said. 

“Don’t push it, Dean, I mean it,” his mom threatened. With the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster, Dean bounded to the fridge and grabbed a cold beer. He beamed at Sam as he cracked open the drink and hopped on the kitchen counter near the table, kicking in the air as he nursed it, still smiling. 

“So, Sam, I guess let’s start at the beginning,” Bobby said, pouring himself more vodka in his glass. “What’s the earliest thing you remember?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, face scrunched up in concentration. “I think…I remember my Dad. I remember this…ugly room with this awful pea-soup wallpaper. It smelled like mold. He was…pacing around the room, looking panicked. I remember…crying. Because my head was hurting.” Sam rubbed his temple as if to soothe the memory replaying in his head. “And I remember him hugging me, telling me it would be alright…” Sam scoffed angrily at that. “He said this weird thing to me…..how did it go? ‘Don’t cry, Sammy. It’ll go away soon…just try not to _think too hard_.’” 

Everyone exchanged looks at that. “You’re sure that’s what your old man said?” Bobby asked. 

“Yeah, I’ve always remembered that because it was a weird thing to say. I think I was…four maybe?” Sam said with a shrug. 

“You don’t remember your mother?” Ellen asked. 

“No. Dad showed me pictures of her, but I don’t remember her at all.” 

Bobby scratched his forehead under his cap and sighed. “John’s my younger brother. After serving in Desert Storm he came back, married his high school sweetheart Mary, and the three of you went to live in Lawrence, Kansas. I ended up here in Sioux Falls with El. We were all pretty close back then, even with the distance we managed to visit a lot. Lived normal lives. Hard to believe there was time when we thought the most dangerous things in the world were crooked politicians.

“I don’t know what happened initially, but I will always remember the phone call I got twelve years ago. John called the house, frantic, saying that there was some sort of intruder who broke into the house and set fire to it. The entire thing burned to the ground. Somehow you and John got out safely, but Mary…” Bobby took a little breath. “Mary died in the fire.”

There was a still silence in the kitchen as everyone waited for the old man to continue his story. Sam rubbed at the ache in his hand from earlier, unable to look anyone in the eye. He wanted so badly to feel some sort of connection, to the story, the names, to those around him. Instead he just felt…alone. Disconnected. Hollow. 

“John grabbed you and high-tailed it here to our house,” Ellen picked up. “We offered for him to stay a while, try to get his feet back under him. I think he managed to stay a few weeks before…”

Rufus suddenly started speaking. “I was a hunter working a case, following this creature for a few weeks. A Rakshasa, a shape-shifter that liked to use kids to attack their parents. I dug up its trail in Nebraska and actually followed it here, to Sioux Falls, and then here, to this house.” 

“I remember that,” Dean said suddenly. “Yeah, I remember that…thing. It was…god, it was like a blood-splattered-clown looking _thing_.” He took a swig of beer as Sam shuddered violently, trying to ignore the image his mind conjured up. “I remember us hiding in the closet upstairs. I remember telling you ‘it would be okay, Sammy.’ I remember looking through the slots in the door, watching Rufus barrel in and stab the bastard with a bronze knife. I _remember_ that.” 

“Rufus saved our lives, but John flipped out. He grabbed you and left, Sam. I remember screaming at his taillights to come back, but he never did. And I never heard from him after that,” Bobby said quietly, sullenly. 

“So…that’s what happened?” Sam asked. “You became hunters?”

“We had to,” Ellen said. “We begged Rufus to teach us everything he knew about hunting so we could protect ourselves, protect Dean. But Dean didn’t just want to be safe, he wanted to help save others, too. He wanted to become a hunter, just like Rufus. And Jo…we thought we’d managed to keep her safe, but it seems like something’s determined to keep the Winchesters from having a normal life,” she finished with anger and frustration in her voice. 

“Sometimes the path we want is not the one laid out for us,” Castiel said with sudden sagely wisdom. He’d been so quiet everyone had basically forgotten the weapon had been present the whole time, watching the scene with his intense blue eyes. 

“Why didn’t you look for us?” Sam asked. “Why didn’t you try to find us, if you were so worried about us?” he spat, suddenly scornful. 

“You don’t think we did? I tore through obits like they were fortune cookies, trying to find some sort of clue! I asked around in every town, every motel, and every city we hunted in for years.” Bobby snapped. “John ran and disappeared, you both vanished off the face of the Earth, Sam. We thought you were dead.”

“I’m sorry my dad’s an asshole,” Sam offered in a shaky voice. 

“Me too, son. Maybe together we can both beat some sense into him,” Bobby said. He tilted his head to study Sam. “Any of that ring a bell?”

Several moments of unsure silence filled the room. Sam was unsure what to say, how to react, and the others watched him intently. “Um…I’m sorry. Just silence,” he said a little sadly. He felt like he’d let them down, but his mind was still blank. 

Bobby simply shrugged. “Let’s sleep on it, tonight. Maybe that’ll jog your memory?” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe.” He didn’t sound so convinced. 

“I was thinking we could make a palette on the floor in the library. We could sleep there tonight,” Ellen said. 

“Why?” Dean asked. 

Ellen paused for a moment, eyes faraway. “Seems the safest place for everyone,” she said quietly. “We’ve…that was the closest we’ve ever come to…losing someone in a long time,” she finished; dragging a hand over her eyes and taking a steadying breathe. Bobby pulled her into a one-armed hug, patting her hand to comfort her. 

“No problem,” Dean said, looking a little nervous at his mother’s lack of rock-steadiness. “We’ll grab some blankets and stuff. It’ll be like a sleepover. I just better not wake up with anyone spooning me, I will hurt you,” he said to Sam and Cas. 

“Dude, that’s gross,” Sam said. 

“Why would someone attack you with spoons?” Castiel asked curiously. 

That simple phrase broke the tension in the air that had been gathering like storm clouds; Sam laughed both at the confusion on Cas’s face as well as Dean’s look of pained hopelessness. 

~*~

A loud snort made Sam wake up and twist around to peer with bleary eyes at Rufus sleeping on the couch with his legs hanging off the side and his denim jacket pulled over him like a blanket. He had a gravelly snore that sounded like a far-off train. 

The soft, early morning light filtered into the study and through the windows the large flakes of snow falling outside in curtains. Sam sat up slowly, blinking the sleep away from his bleary eyes. Jo was sleeping between him and Dean and Castiel on the pile of blankets they’d created. Everyone’s easy breathing seemed so relaxed, peaceful even.

Jo was burrowed into Dean’s chest, and he was curled protectively around his baby sister. Castiel was asleep with his back pressed to his partner’s—even in his sleep Castiel staunchly watched Dean’s back. Sam couldn’t help but silent a snicker. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two teenagers, planning on sending it to Gabriel at some point. 

He looked around and found Bobby was there, too. He was leaning back in his desk chair, feet up on the desk corner, his hat pulled down his face and snoring away. A sound of movement came from the kitchen adjacent to the study, and Sam quietly got to his feet. Sneaking to the sliding doors, he pulled one open and peered inside to see Ellen awake and moving around in the kitchen. 

He felt a little weird spying on her, so he pulled the door closed silently. Without Dean or Castiel acting as a buffer, Sam wasn’t sure how to interact with anyone. They thought of him as long-lost family, he only knew them as strangers. Even after last night’s reveal, he realized, he didn’t feel any closer to them. His supposed family…instead of feeling comforted, it left him feeling frustrated. 

He snuck past his sleeping floor mates to grab his backpack (tucked in a corner, he sighed in relief) and managed to get past both Rufus and Bobby without waking anyone at all. Once safely locked in the bathroom he pawed through the pack until he pulled out the wad of clothing hiding the vial. He looked at it, scowling, for a moment unsure what to do. 

He’d managed to fight off the Krampus, even bring it down to its knees, without his Weapons and without help. But it still almost got him. Dean still had to come in and save the day per usual. Sam looked at the vial, let a drop of blood drip onto the end of his finger, and then added a second drop, swallowing before he could think it over more. 

He just needed a little more power; he just needed to be a little stronger—how bad could two drops be?

~*~

Splashing water onto his face and cleaning up a bit, he realized another pair of pants and a shirt were ill-fitting. Annoyed now that he might look stupid, he made his way to the kitchen and found Ellen and Bobby already there. 

“Good morning Sam,” Ellen called out from the stove, cooking a large pan of eggs for the gathered company. “Sleep alright?”

“Yeah, just fine,” he said. 

Bobby was fiddling with an old coffee pot that was probably from one of the World Wars. “Hey, Sam, Grab some mugs, please? From that cabinet over there?”

Sam liked the efficient briskness of Dean’s parents; he liked having something to do so he didn’t have to stand there awkwardly and think and worry. 

The sliding doors opened and Dean, Cas, and Jo wandered in, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and yawning. 

“Mornin’ kids,” Bobby growled. “Sleep alright?”

“Now I know why they invented mattresses,” Dean grumbled, cracking his back.

“You’ll live,” Bobby said. He snatched Jo up his arms and pecked her forehead. “And you? Sleep okay?”

“Dad, knock it off, I’m fine,” she reported, wiggling so he could put her down. 

“So, Dean, were you attacked with any spoons in the night?” Sam managed to ask with a straight face. Dean glared at him, and Castiel looked concerned. 

“I’m fine, Cas, Sam’s being a pain,” Dean said. 

Ellen started dishing out scrambled eggs on mismatched plates. “Someone wake up Rufus, please?”

Breakfast was anything but a quiet affair. Jo and Dean started teasing and bickering with each other over things only they seemed to understand. Bobby munched on a doughnut while reading the newspaper. Both Dean and Jo reached for the last doughnut at the same time, and shot each other glares for it. 

“Jo, give me the doughnut,” he said calmly, holding the box. 

“No way! I almost got eaten last night, I get the doughnut!” Jo said firmly, holding onto the other end of the box and tugging it towards her. Her logic seemed pretty infallible.

“Joanna Beth,” Dean warned. “I’m the one that killed the monster!” 

It took Sam a moment to realize it was a game they were playing from the mischief in their eyes, but Castiel looked genuinely upset at their ‘arguing.’ “Why don’t you cut the doughnut in half, then you both can have some?” he suggested. 

“You can’t just King Solomon everything, Cas,” Dean said with a playful scowl. “Sometimes it’s all or nothing!”

“If that’s the way it’s going to be,” Rufus suddenly said while snatching up the box right out of their surprised hands. “Then I get the doughnut.” He scarfed the doughnut down in two bites, earning surprised glares from the siblings. 

Sam took a seat next to Bobby, and peered at the paper Bobby was reading. “Is there any way I can see that later?” he asked nonchalantly. 

“Sure. Just seeing if there was any supernatural critter with a bug up its ass somewhere,” Bobby said, making Dean snort. 

“Anything nearby?” Dean asked curiously. 

“Hard to tell. Might be something up in Omaha, I’ll look at it later.” 

“No shop at the table, please,” Ellen said as she dished out scrambled eggs for the teenagers and Jo. Dean and Jo glared at Sam until he swallowed the doughnut in two bites. The rest of breakfast was a quiet affair as people ate, drank coffee—it was so odd to Sam. He was used to it just being himself, sometimes his Dad, or the girls. The way the others bickered and teased each other in an easy manner made him relax a little more. Gabriel had been right again, it seemed. Dean’s family was pretty cool. 

Rufus got up and looked out of the window in the doorway and sighed. “She’s coming down pretty heavy, Bobby,” he observed, drinking his coffee. 

“We might need to put the chains on the truck out back,” Ellen said. “Grab some more supplies from Sioux Falls for our unexpected guests,” she shot a look at Dean for that. 

“We have half a cow in the freezer downstairs, how much more in the way of supplies do you think we’ll need?” Bobby asked, puzzled. 

“Um, actually…Cas is a vegetarian,” Dean cut in. “He doesn’t eat meat,” he explained to Jo. 

“No meat? No hamburgers? Or hot dogs? Or chicken tenders?” Jo asked the Weapon. 

“No, I’ve never eaten any of those before.”

“Wow, your life is depressing,” Jo said with conviction. “Aren’t you sad?”

“I can’t miss what I’ve never had,” Castiel explained in a gentle tone with a smile. He really was developing a soft spot for his meister’s sister. 

“Vegetarian, huh? Well, that puts a damper on things,” Bobby said, thinking. 

Castiel ducked his head. “I apologize for the inconvenience,” he said gruffly. 

“Don’t you dare, Cas!” Ellen said. “You helped save Jo’s life yesterday. We’ll get whatever you want during your stay, won’t we?” she said, looking at Bobby. Her husband sighed and nodded. 

“Within reason,” he added. He looked at Rufus, then outside the window. “Come on, Rufus. We’ll chain the truck, and you can take the kids into Sioux Falls, grab some supplies and get back here. The snow’s only going to get worst as the day goes on,” he said. 

“What are you going to do?” Dean asked his father. 

“There’s a call I need to make, might as well do it sooner rather than later.” 

After cleaning up the kitchen and everyone got dressed, Rufus took the teenagers outside to show them how to put snow chains on a car. The truck was actually a large van, gutted to allow maximum space inside for hunting equipment or chores around the salvage yard. Even Jo came out and helped instead of chucking snowballs at their heads. Maybe her promise to behave wasn’t just trauma talking. 

Bobby was in his library and flipping through a notebook stuffed with papers, business cards, and other random bits of notation when Ellen came up to him and wrapped her arms around his middle, taking a steadying breathe. He could feel her shake slightly. 

“Ellen?”

She came around and walked up to the window, Bobby following her gaze. The snow was still coming down, and the chains were finished; when he wasn’t looking the lesson had devolved into a huge snowball fight. Jo chucked snowy missiles at her brother as he ducked behind another shell of a car. Castiel was looking lost until a snowball exploded on the back of his trench coat. He turned to spy Sam laughing, and ended up returning fire upon the taller teen with vigor. Rufus suddenly appeared next to Jo and yanked back her fur-lined hood to shove snow down her back—her yelp could be heard inside, followed by angry laughter. 

“We came too close last night, Bobby. We need to get out, before it’s too late,” Ellen said, watching the fight. 

“And do what after that, exactly?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, something, anything! Jo was almost killed last night, Dean almost died last night. We can’t do this anymore, Bobby, it’s irresponsible!” 

“Keeping Jo and Dean in the dark about the world when we _know_ what’s out there is what’s irresponsible,” Bobby growled. “Burrowing our heads in the sand won’t help them, it’ll kill them, and you know that, El. If we were civilians Jo and Dean would be dead, Owen Mills would be dead.” 

Ellen took a few steps away from her husband, giving him a glare and cocked her hips in anger. “Why is it our responsibility? Why must our kids be the ones?” she asked quietly, more to some unknown force than her husband of almost 20 years. 

“As long as things go bump in the night, we’ll need hunters. We’ll need meisters and weapons.” He watched the teenagers covered in snow and laughing. “We’ll need heroes, El.”

Ellen looked away, unable to say anything. She was usually the rock, the one that didn’t waver, looked danger in the eye and didn’t flinch. It was odd seeing her like this. Maybe Sam’s reappearance was making her question the quid pro quo of the Winchester house. 

“So, what’re you getting?” Bobby asked, tabling the argument. 

Ellen sighed. “Groceries, probably stop over at the thrift store. Did you see Sam’s clothes? They barely fit!” 

Bobby clenched him teeth. He’d noticed all right. “Just…get back safe, please?” 

Despite feeling upset, Ellen gave him a kiss of reassurance before she headed out into the falling snow herself.

~*~

“This is The Roadhouse, Pamela speaking.” 

“Hey, Pamela, it’s Bobby! ‘Course, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, haha. A psychic joke, how original.”

“I like to keep you on your toes. Don’t you have a home to go too? Why are you at the Roadhouse?”

“Most hunters aren’t exactly rushing home to anyone for the holidays, Bobby. Most are content to spend their money here. Besides, the only things at my house are a cold beer and a dead orchid, and they’re not getting any colder or any deader.” 

“You know, you’re welcome here to the house,” Bobby said. “I mean it. As long as you’re taking care of the Roadhouse, Ellen thinks you’re family.” 

“She loves this old place,” Pamela confirmed. Bobby could hear the smile grow over the phone, even over the clinking of glass and talking in the background. “But, I don’t think that’d be a good idea. The Roadhouse has a new tenant, and I’d be afraid of him accidentally burning down the place. Nice guy, brilliant, but not exactly playing with a full deck.” 

“A tenant? Where does he stay?”

“The back room. Pays me some rent, helps the hunters. Usually I open the bar to find him sleeping on the pool table. His name’s Ash. He’s an egghead just like you, Bobby. You’d like him.” 

“I’m not a….okay, look, that’s not the point. The point is—“

“You want to ask me something, right?”

“Since when did you learn to do readings over the phone?”

There was a cheerful laugh from the young woman on the other end of the line. “Don’t need to be a psychic to know you only call when you need my advice on something.” 

“Well, that makes me sound like a giant jackass.”

Another laugh. “What’s on your mind, Bobby?”

Bobby explained the entire situation and his suspicions concerning his nephew. Pamela listened intently, and the background noise dropped exponentially as he spoke. She’d probably taken the phone into the back office for a little privacy. 

“Do you think you could drop by, take a look even?”

“I’m not really a ‘people person,’ Bobby. I’m better at reading spirits, other things on the other side. However, I’ll see if I can slip away for a while. How about tomorrow?”

“That sounds great. Thanks a lot Pamela.”

“Not a problem Bobby.” 

~*~

A few hours later they returned, laden down with bags and boxes of supplies and groceries. Sam carried two special bags, full of oversized shirts and pants from the local thrift store. The clothes were baggy at the moment, but the idea was he could grow into them in the coming months. He even now owned a proper winter jacket that he could easily layer with a hoodie for optimum warmth in the coming winter months. 

Bobby noticed Sam’s new carefree grin—it lit up his face and eyes, making them less blackish-brown and more green. It prompted the memory of Sam as a laughing child to dance through the old man’s mind. He remembered four-year-old Sam squatting next to Dean, reassuring his older cousin when Dean had scratched up his knee and was crying. It was good to see that Sam was still there, under the wary teenager he’d met yesterday. 

Making dinner was a raucous affair as the teenagers teased and bickered with each other. Rufus tried to help but he ended up almost setting the kitchen on fire. Castiel found himself ordered about by Jo like an ever-suffering nanny dog; he didn’t seem to mind the young girl’s bossy attitude terribly much. 

As they ate dinner Bobby cleared his throat. “So, Pamela’s coming by tomorrow.” 

“Pamela?” Ellen looked surprised while both Jo looked delighted. 

“Who’s Pamela?” Castiel asked. 

“Family friend who runs Mom’s old bar, the Roadhouse. She’s awesome, she’s a psychic, and she’s _hot_ ,” Dean explained in a whisper. 

Rufus snorted. “I still bullshit on that psychic business. Woman claims she’s psychic but doesn’t play the lottery?”

“She only uses her powers for good,” Jo told him pointedly. 

“What’s the occasion?” Dean asked, unable to keep an ear-splitting grin from his face. 

Bobby nodded towards Sam. “Well, Sam is.” 

“Me?”

Bobby lifted his cap to scratch his head. “There’s just…something buggin’ me about your whole ‘I don’t remember nothin’ story that I can’t shake.” 

Sam felt his hand curl into a fist under the table. Just when he was starting to think they were different…“You don’t believe me?” he asked in a frosty tone.

“Nah, that’s not it. I just think there’s a difference between not remembering and having nothing to remember.” 

Surprised looks grew on everyone’s faces. 

“You think Sam’s memories might have been blocked? What the hell for?” Ellen asked first.

“I dunno darlin’, that’s why I want to ask the resident psychic,” Bobby said in a snarky tone. “Maybe she can help us figure something out. Of course, that’s only if you want to, Sam.” 

“I can say no?” 

“Of course, Sam.” 

There was a silence as people waited for Sam’s response. Even he himself wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he answered before he could even truly think it through. 

“I want to know what she says,” Sam said. 

Bobby grinned. “Glad to hear it, son.” 

For once, the term didn’t make Sam flinch. 

~*~

_G: Sambo! Are you alive? Do I need to send a search and rescue team after you?_

_S: Sorry, stuck out in BFE. Barely any signal. How’s NY?_

_G: It’s NY. Can’t really say more than that. How goes it on your end? Are you a long-lost relative of Deanie-Weenie’s?_

_S:…..actually, yeah._

_G: Called it! You gotta give me the details!_

_S: ….alright. I guess, uh, just call me when you get some time. It’s a long story._

Less than five minutes later Sam’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. He had just finished the dishes and grabbed the phone on the last ring. “Hello?”

“Sam! Long time no talk! So, how about those details?” 

Sam ended up migrating up the stairs and into Dean’s bedroom, wishing for a touch of privacy. “Why do you sound so muffled?” he asked. 

“I’m currently hiding in a coat rack,” Gabriel said nonchalantly. 

“A…coat rack?” 

“You need to talk fast, Sasquatch. I’m at this big holiday party Kali’s parents are throwing and I’ve managed to lose her for the moment. I’ve tucked myself away in the coat room. Luckily the party just got started so people shouldn’t be stealing my cover. Although this stupid suit is hot, ugh. Have I mentioned I hate bowties?”

The image of Gabriel in a suit with a little gold bowtie made Sam pause. “Um, no, it’s never come up.” 

“So, Sam, what’s been going on?”

“Well…I’m Dean’s cousin.” 

“I need _new_ details, Sam! You were the only one who didn’t believe Dean. Come on, what else?”

“Um, apparently I’m suffering from sort of amnesia and they’re bringing a psychic out to try and fix me. And last night Dean, Cas, and I had to kill the Anti-Claus to save Dean’s baby sister.” 

“….Okay, this is so not fair, I totally got gypped out of the most exciting road trip ever!” 

Sam smiled as he talked. Gabriel would make witty remarks that made him laugh, and he found himself wishing that Gabriel had tagged along. Gabriel’s cheerful nature, however, did little to sooth the rolling anxiety in his stomach, and what Pamela might discover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this story, progresses, I would like some opinions and feedback. Are you enjoying the episodic nature of the chapters? Do you like the side-stories with the characters, or would you prefer to just see the over-arcing plot become the main story focus? Are there any things you’d like to see more of, or less of? Any thoughts for situations for the characters or ideas on what the hell is going on?   
> I realized this fic was getting very long, and while I might like the added fillers, some readers might not. I really would like some feedback on these questions so I can adjust the story accordingly. Or, do you like how it’s going and don’t want me to change a thing? Let me know!


	30. New York Nights in White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another night in New York City....

Gabriel straightened his tie, brushed the wrinkles from his suit jacket, and slicked back his hair into place while trying to look inconspicuous as he left the coat room unseen. He managed to get away with the act for about ten feet until he heard a polite cough behind him that made him wince. He turned slowly to see Kali glaring at him, arms crossed over her body. Her golden party dress looked spectacular against her darkened skin, and the gold accents in her hair and jewelry that adorned her made her look both impossibly beautiful and dangerously imposing. There were heads of state at the party that couldn’t command anything close to the authority and presence Kali naturally had. 

“When most people come out of a coat room looking that flustered, they usually have company,” she said with a small smirk. 

Gabriel chuckled. “I, uh, just needed from fresh air.” 

“And you found that in between the Cucinellis and mink coats?” She chuckled and strode up to him, weaving his arm with her own and steering him back towards the giant ballroom filled with easily a hundred men and women. All were dressed in the finest suits and dresses of the season and came from all walks of life: Congressmen and women, heads of state departments and international business owners. When the Shivans threw a party a spot on the invite list was considered more valuable than gold. 

Gabriel tugged at his neck, the golden bow tie matching the vest he wore, which matched Kali’s dress. He stopped mid-step and gave her a look. “I really don’t like crowds,” he told her in no uncertain terms. “Like, really _really_ don’t.” 

She looked at him, then at the milling guests, then back to her partner. Sweat trickled down his cheek and he kept tugging at the sleeves of the suit jacket he was wearing. He obviously wasn’t used to wearing such formal clothing. 

Kali sighed. “You know, I think we’ve made enough of an appearance tonight.” She turned them around and began gracefully walking back towards the foyer of the grand room, draped in gold and green and red. Wreaths and banners draped across the room made it majestic and festive. The more steps they took away from the main crowd the more Kali could feel Gabriel start to relax, but he looked at her anyway. 

“You’re sure?”

“Mother and Father only wanted to show me off anyway, and that they did. They won’t even notice our missing presence until after the guests leave.” Passing by an impassive butler who watched them with keen eyes, she steered them back towards the coat room.

“Why are we going back to the coat room?” Gabriel asked, feeling a little lost in the noise of the people and the band that was playing out front, and the smell of the pine wreaths and five-star food. 

“To get our coats, obviously. What else would a young man and woman be doing in there?” Kali said simply, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. 

Gabriel thought he’d managed to make himself appear calm, but the fact that his meister was attempting make him laugh with an _innuendo_ of all things must’ve meant he looked worse than he thought. He didn’t like the grandeur, he didn’t like the stuffy clothing, and he didn’t like the haughty attitudes the rich and powerful brought to these events. He didn’t like any of it. 

They grabbed their coats and headed outside of the hotel’s foyer into frosty cold that was New York City on Christmas. The little patch of fog he breathed out in the cold was snatched away by a nasty wind that carried it away into the night. A night that was almost as bright as day because all the neon signs and streetlights. 

He looked over at Kali, and was surprised she looked barely bothered by the numbing cold, despite the fact she wore several layers less than he did. “So, now what? We freeze to death out here?”

Kali grabbed his hand and started walking down the street with purpose. “Hardly. I’m used to being ignored during my parent’s annual events. There’s a place I thought you might like to visit.” 

“Uh, awesome, sounds great,” Gabriel called out, almost running to keep up with her stride. The fingers on his other hand felt numb, but the ones that were being tugged on by Kali became sweaty. “Do you really think we should be wandering around out here by ourselves?”

“We’re students from the DWMA. Do you really think we can’t handle any miscreants dimwitted enough to try and hurt us?”

Alright, she had a point, and she didn’t slow down enough to let him think of another argument as snow started falling from above. They turned the corner and continued on, the road full of yellow taxis honking and pedestrians yelling at each other. 

“The sounds of the season,” Gabriel joked. 

“It does warm the cockles of my heart,” she added with a smile she flashed over her shoulder at him. 

“Kali, are you feeling alright? That’s like, the third joke you’ve made in the past ten minutes.” 

She shrugged. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.” 

A few blocks away and Kali slowed her stride slightly, and Gabriel was able to catch up to her slightly longer stride. They walked side-by-side, Gabriel pulling his hand away from his meister’s and putting his hands in his pockets. She did the same, and they walked in silence. 

“What did you mean by, ‘ignored’?” Gabriel asked evenly. 

Kali shrugged. “It’s nothing, Gabriel,” she said, dismissing the question. “My parents have guests to attend to, nothing more.” 

“You mean your parents push you to the back burner like they play footsie with warmongers and assholes.” 

There was such a bitter tone to Gabriel’s statement that Kali arched an eyebrow at him. “That sounded projected,” she said. Despite being partners and living in each other’s pockets, Gabriel had stayed surprisingly quiet on subjects of his past and home life. Not that she was one to pry, but now her curiosity was piqued. 

“Sorry, I just…I hate crap like that,” he motioned towards the vague distance that the ballroom had been. 

“Sounds like you’d have experience with it,” she said. 

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Seriously nothing. So, uh….where are we going?” he asked with false cheer. He tried to distance himself from memories and frustrations he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Kali knew the subject was dropped, and looked up the street. “There, see it?” she pointed to a shop on the corner of the next road. They stood across the street, waiting in the biting wind for the lights to change so they could safely cross. Luckily there were few other people out in the bitter cold, otherwise Gabriel might have become nervous at losing his guide. 

“What is it?” Gabriel asked. The shop was in a high-end area, but the windows were draped in black velvet and there was no name on the outside of the building, giving away nothing.

“You’ll see.” The light changed and he followed his meister. She strode right up to the double French doors and went inside without hesitation. Gabriel followed and was taken aback by how nice the inside was. The bright lighting inside revealed a clean and fastidiously organized shop. There were shelves along the walls encased in glass—inside seemed to be the world’s largest collection of eclectic and exotic knick-knacks. One whole wall was devoted to books, again encased in glass. Gabriel had the sense that he shouldn’t have even been allowed inside—it was obvious this was a place that was aimed at business with only the highest paying customers. 

Kali took her coat off and placed it on a rack by the door as if she’d done it a dozen times before she started perusing around the shop. Gabriel fumbled for his jacket buttons and did the same, trailing after her and trying to stay at least five feet from any objects encased in glass. Gabriel found himself looking up at a painting on the wall next to Kali. It looked something like Van Gogh’s famous ‘Starry Night’ painting, but instead of swirls of blues and greens, fiery oranges and reds were the main color scheme. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said a pleasant voice next to them. Gabriel startled slightly at the sudden apparition, a young woman with black hair and brown eyes. She wore a black dress that only added to the air of sophistication she held. She nodded towards the painting. “It’s a new piece. ‘The Inferno’ I think it’s called.” 

“Because that’s what someone wants, a painting of Hell hanging over there mantle,” Kali said. 

The woman chuckled. “Such a gloomy way to look at it. Personally I think it’s the fire from a bonfire alongside a lake.” 

“That’s half the fun of paintings,” Gabriel said. “Everyone sees what they want to see.” 

The woman smiled and held out her hand. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Gabriel,” he said. “And this is Kali,” he said after a moment when his partner didn’t speak up but instead walked away rather rudely. 

The woman chuckled. “Oh, I know Kali. She’s a regular window-shopper.” 

“I don’t window-shop,” Kali said, miffed. “I could buy this whole building if I wanted.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact you’ve never bought anything here,” she said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. My name is Sarah Blake, by the way.” 

Gabriel shook her hand and was about to say something else when two voices could be heard coming from a doorway hidden behind another black velvet drape. A short and balding man appeared, clutching something in his hand. Behind him came another woman, a little older than Sarah, with mousy brown hair and piercing eyes that had a cunning edge to them. She was dressed in a business suit and had her hair tucked up in a loose bun. She was dazzling, and she had a confident air to her that was just this side of arrogant. “So, as I was saying, this should work very well for you, sir,” she purred with an English accent.

“Much as I paid for it, it had better work,” he grunted, but he looked excited as she ushered him out the double doors. 

“Just remember your friends at Blake & Talbot’s when you hit that lottery,” she said pleasantly, waving at him as he left the store. As soon as he disappeared, she sighed. “God, I never thought I’d get rid of him!” She turned around to spy her business partner and a teenage boy watching her with interest. 

“Sarah, who’s the rapscallion,” she asked. 

“Gabriel, Kali Shivan’s _date_ ,” Sarah said a grin. 

“He’s not my date,” Kali said before Gabriel could even fathom a response. “He’s my partner.” 

“Well, you certainly know how to pick them,” the other woman said as she strode up and gave Gabriel an appraising eye before offered her hand. “Bella Talbot.” 

“Charmed,” Gabriel said. He motioned around the shop. “So, um…what exactly is it that you sell?” 

Bella laughed. “We’re in the business of finding rare occult paraphernalia and procuring them for a specialized clientele,” she said easily. 

Gabriel looked around the place again. “You sell dangerous occult objects from a shop in the middle of New York City?”

“Selling them is the easy part,” Sarah cut in. “It’s the ‘procuring’ part that’s the trick.” 

“Don’t give away the secrets of the trade, darling.” Though the words were spoken pleasantly enough, there was a warning tone from Bella to Sarah. 

“You should let us see the backroom,” Kali suggested as she suddenly appeared next to her weapon. She wasn’t really asking. 

“It’s a terrible clutter back there,” Bella said with a tiny scowl causing wrinkles to appear around her eyes. 

“You know she knows that room as well as we do,” Sarah said with a shrug. “If you want to close up the shop I’ll act as a chaperone.” 

“Deal,” Bella said. “Just…please, for the love of God don’t touch anything!” 

Gabriel wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but as he and Kali were ushered past that black curtain he found out it was not what he was expecting. There was a short hallway, in which a small room on the right lead to what appeared to be a normal looking office and a room on the left looked like a small sitting room with a table, two chairs, and a small pot for coffee (or tea) on the edge of the desk. They continued past those two rooms until they came to a flight of stairs descending into the basement. When they finally stepped off the last stair Gabriel eyes grew wide at the vast array of shelves that filled the basement area from floor to ceiling. 

“Holy crap, look at all this stuff!” he exclaimed. The shelves crammed into the room were just wide enough for him to squeeze through and were laden with boxes and jars and vases and myriads of other random objects. It almost looked like several antique shops had thrown up all over the place. They followed Sarah past a large wooden crate—considering the lack of dust on it, it must’ve been new. 

“Don’t touch that,” she said when Gabriel paused to look at it. “We’ve been so busy upstairs I haven’t gotten a chance to put any of those items in protective curse boxes yet.” 

“Curse boxes?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes. All the items in there are cursed in some form or another. A cursed pair of ballet slippers, a cursed phonograph, a cursed rabbit’s foot, a cursed gentlemen’s magazine—“

“A cursed _porn magazine_?” He didn’t’ even try to hide the incredulous tone. 

“Oh yeah. Very cursed. I won’t go into the details—you probably would want to actually sleep tonight,” Sarah said with a little shudder. “Let’s just say it doesn’t end well.”

“Then how do you plan on selling such items?” Kali asked, peering at the unmarked wooden crate. 

“And why in the hell would someone buy these?” Gabriel added. 

“Selling it will be fairly easy. As long as Bella or I don’t actually touch the items, we never ‘own’ them, are so we don’t get affected by the curses. As for why? Well, people with that sort of buying power like to live on the edge. Owning something that could kill them is a thrill, I guess. Personally I think we should burn them but Bella will sell toilet paper to a lost hiker, and at a premium price, too.” 

“She sounds nice,” Gabriel said with sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

“There’s a reason I let her deal with the customers. I prefer to work the artifacts. Of course, paintings are more my thing but so far we’ve made a killing so she must be doing something right.”   
Sarah motioned around the shelves. “Feel free to poke your noses anyway. Just don’t open any boxes. Or any jars. Or, yeah, what Bella said, don’t touch anything at all. I’ll be right back.” 

She managed to disappear up the steps like a ghost while wearing impressive heels, and Gabriel started to follow Kali. She bypassed several shelves and started peering down others with vague interest. 

“So, you’ve done this before?” Gabriel asked. 

Kali shrugged. “I ran into this shop to get away from another one of my parents’ boring events a year ago or so and met Miss Blake and Miss Talbot. The items they have are fascinating, and the stories on how they got most of their stock are just as interesting—if you can get Sarah to spill the beans.” 

Gabriel grinned. “Any good ones?”

“I’ll ask her when she comes back.” 

They wandered around a few more minutes when Gabriel walked past another shelf just as Kali veered off in a different direction and something caught his eye. He paused and looked back, and saw it again. A glint of metal halfway down the aisle, just at eye level. He moved carefully down to the aisle as to not touch anything and stopped. 

It was a pendent, very old in appearance, and his hand was already out and reaching for it before he realized what he was doing. Too late, he gently picked up the heavy pendent and ran his hands over its simple design. There was something about this pendent that seemed to be…almost calling to him. He put it down, and almost immediately picked it up again to look at it once more. He really didn’t want to put it down, and he kept running his finger over the metal. It felt almost warm to the touch. 

He wandered out the aisle and almost walked straight into Sarah and Kali, who were talking in a rather friendly manner that Kali wasn’t known for doing. He must’ve been really distracted because he hadn’t heard them talking at all. 

“Um, excuse me, Sarah? Do you know that this is?” he asked the curator. Sarah looked down at the pendent in Gabriel’s hand. He seemed a little hesitant to let her have a closer look. There was a slightly puzzled look on her face. 

“Where did you get this?” she asked. He led them back to the spot where the pendent had been laying on the shelf. She looked at the other pendants and jewelry there, and Gabriel noticed they all had little strings with white tags on them for identification and price. The pendant she was now holding did not. 

“That’s really odd,” she said. “I’m the one who organizes this stuff, and I don’t remember even seeing this thing before. It was with the protection jewelry so I guess it has protective properties but, I really couldn’t say.”

“It looks old,” Kali added. 

“It does appear Babylonian,” Sarah added. She handed it back to Gabriel, and saw the way he held it carefully. Despite the fact that it was essentially a hunk of metal, he handled it with the same care as if holding a glass figurine. “Maybe Bella got it in an overseas shipment.” 

“How much?” he asked, though he knew there was no way in he could ever afford such a thing. Hearing the outlandish price tag might help him put the stupid thing back. 

Sarah thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. I’ll go ask Bella.” 

A minute later she returned, and Gabriel was still staring at the thing intently, as if they were having a private discussion about the secrets of the universe. 

“What’s the price?” Kali asked. 

Sarah smiled. “On the house.” 

“Wait, what?” Both Kali and Gabriel said at once. Kali narrowed her eyes. “I’m a Shivan, I don’t take charity,” she said, biting off the words carefully. Gabriel could feel the venom in his meister’s words. 

Sarah held up her hands. “It’s not charity, it’s called Christmas. Look, I’ve never seen that pendant before, which means Bella certainly hasn’t either. I don’t know where it came from, or what it truly is, so I’d have no idea what to charge you for it.” 

“How can you just let us take this, it’s money walking out the door!” Kali said. 

Sarah motioned around the basement storehouse. “That little pendent isn’t going to make or break us. We’ve got more inventory than I know what to do with! We won’t miss it, I promise.” 

“You’re sure?” Gabriel asked, feeling the nervous twinge in his gut start to lift when it appeared he might be able to keep the pendant. 

“If I show that to her she’ll charge an arm and a leg on principle,” Sarah said. “Just please, for the love of God do not tell Bella about this or I’ll end up at the bottom of the Hudson.” 

She handed him a small jewelry box. Gabriel put the pendant safely inside and tucked it into his inner jacket pocket. “Thank you,” he said. “It’s almost like it…wanted us to take it. Wow, aloud that sounds really crazy…”

Sarah shook her head. “Actually, that happens more than you think. There’s this phenomenon that happens with occult objects, where sometimes the person doesn’t pick the object, the object picks you.”

Gabriel turned the pendant over once again, listening to her words while trying to figure out if that’s what was happening. The idea the pendant was somehow choosing him wasn’t as nerve-wrecking as it probably should have been on a normal day.

“Maybe you or someone you know needs a little extra help,” she said with a shrug. A thought crossed Gabriel’s mind, and he smiled. 

“Yeah, maybe that’s it,” he said. 

“Excuse me!” Bella shouted from upstairs. “If you two aren’t actually going to buy anything, I’d like to go home at some point!” 

“Such a charmer,” Sarah chuckled before herding the kids upstairs back into the gallery. Bella already had her coat and gloves on. Everyone donned their winter jackets, and Gabriel felt a little thrill at the feel that the little box against his breast, especially when Bella fixed a look on him. He smiled innocently, though the prankster in him was cackling at their success. 

“Your collection is pretty awesome,” he told her. He looked around the gallery, with its dimmed lights and unique collectables. “By the way, doesn’t it seem a little reckless to keep all your stuff here? What if someone breaks in?”

Bella winked. “We only have but the the best security system in place.”

Kali looked around. “Where?” she asked. There was no sign of any control boxes for a security system or any sensor for a silent alarm. 

Sarah grinned, leaned down, and patted the top of a very jovial-looking garden gnome statue that was next to the door. Gabriel could’ve swore wasn’t there when they had entered earlier. 

“What, does it have motioned-sensing lasers it can shoot from its eyes?” he asked. 

“Much worse,” Bella said. 

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at them. “You’re joking.” 

“I most certainly am not. Look up ‘Redcap’ if you don’t believe me.”

Gabriel glanced at it again, and the colorful statue seemed to be staring at him, its vibrant red hat flopped over slightly. He swallowed. 

“Well, it was nice to see you again Kali. And nice to meet you Gabriel,” Sarah said, shaking their hands again. 

“Yes, a pleasure,” Bella added. “Perhaps next time you’ll do more than just window shop?”

“Perhaps,” Kali said. 

They were ushered out the doorway back into the cold night. Bella and Sarah started making their way up the opposite side of the street, leaving Gabriel and Kali to battle the cold on their own. 

Kali looked at the delicate golden watch on her wrist and sighed. 

“How long is the party supposed to go ‘til?” Gabriel asked, catching Kali’s hesitation. 

“A few more hours,” she said. She looked up and down the street, deciding. “Let’s go this way,” she said, and Gabriel started walking beside her down the well-lit main street of the City. He was dazzled by the lights and sounds that he ended up unconsciously stopping several times to stare in awe at the famous landmarks. Kali, surprisingly, didn’t snap at him about the frequent stops; she let him stand and stare for as long as he wanted. 

There was another reason Gabriel kept staring at everything. Just out of the corner of his golden eyes he kept spying a hulking brute of a man following them. He was always across the street or even a block behind them, but there was no way Gabriel could have confused the giant bulk in the dark gray trench coat with anyone else walking by on the streets. Kali seemed to never give the man a second thought, and that set alarms off in his head. 

He walked off, Kali keeping pace next to him, and sure enough as he mentally counted to ten the man started following them with a brisk pace. The cold and the driving wind could have been the reasoning for his quick steps, however, but Gabriel didn’t think so. 

Gabriel suddenly rounded a corner and grabbed Kali’s hand to drag her with him down a side-alley. She was so surprised she didn’t even try to pull her hand away or stop in her tracks. “Gabriel, what’re--?”

“This way!” he hissed, and with a burst of speed Gabriel was running through the falling snow. Kali kept up easily but managed to pull her hand away. 

“What in the world!” she started, but Gabriel ducked behind a dumpster and dragged her with him. He pushed her towards and crouched in front of her. 

“Get down!” he hissed. She did as he told, because the usual glint of humor or mischief in his eyes wasn’t there. He was serious. 

“What are you doing?” she hissed back, trying not to get pushed up against the dirty brick wall or have her dress or coat drag on the snowy ground.

Gabriel didn’t answer because at the end of the alley was the man in the gray coat, peering down the alley with little eyes. He let out a huff of breath, and it steamed into the chilly air. He let out an irritated howl and whipped around before stalking up the street. 

“He was following us,” Gabriel said when he thought the man was out of earshot. He turned back to see Kali was giving him this both bemused and surprised look. “You didn’t see him? How did you not see him, Kali, he’s built like an elephant!” 

Kali clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “Ganesh is one of Father’s body guards,” she said in between giggles. “He usually follows me around. So no, I didn’t notice him.” She laughed again.

Gabriel was sure any snow that landed on his cheek would evaporate immediately, he was blushing so hard. “Oh, I, uh….crap, I’m sorry.” 

“No need to apologize! You noticed a threat and acted accordingly. I’m proud of you,” she said with a smile. 

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my meister?” he asked, not used to such kindness. 

Kali shrugged. She got to her feet and pulled her stocky partner up with little effort. She looked around and pointed to a doorway down the alley, a brilliant sign overhanging it announcing the “Jazz Club on Main” was open. 

“I say we give Ganesh a little time to simmer in the juices of his failure,” she said with a mischievous glint to her eyes. “What do you say?”

“Sounds great to me!” Gabriel said. They noticed several people come and go, mostly older couples but a few younger adults came and went as well. They entered the doorway and immediately headed done a flight of stairs to the jazz club. The sounds of low talking and clinking glasses drowned out the noise of cars and people from the streets above. The lights were dimmed and there was an air of secrecy throughout the club. 

There was a young man in a suit standing behind a little podium in order to greet guests and ask for I.D. Gabriel stopped them short and flicked his wrist. A breeze whipped past them and the papers on the podium started flying everywhere. The man’s back was turned for several seconds to gather them back together, just long enough for the DWMA students to sneak past him. 

Kali followed Gabriel’s lead and he led them to a shadowy corner where a small table set for two was empty. The rest of the tables had people sitting at them, chatting quietly or were sitting alone and drinking cocktails in silence. Gabriel even helped her out of her coat and pulled her chair out for her. 

“Gabriel, what was that?” she asked after he sat down himself. 

“What was what?”

“How did you do that?” she pressed again. 

Gabriel shrugged. “Someone left the door open, that’s all.” He didn’t speak any further. When a waiter came around Kali ordered a virgin Shirley temple. Gabriel decided that a glass of hot chocolate was the best route to take. A group of musicians entered the empty stage in the middle of the café and started setting up their instruments. Gabriel watched them with interest. 

“Gabriel, you’re holding on me,” she said quietly. Normally such a statement would be threatening, but perhaps it was the relaxing nature of the café because she sounded more curious than angry. Because she was certain Gabriel had created that fortunate little breeze, somehow.

“I’m not,” he said. “I saw an opening and went for it. Unless you wanted to still be wandering around in the snow?” 

“Hardly,” she said, stirring her drink before taking a sip. Despite being the youngest patrons in the café, they were easily some of the more sophisticated looking ones. “What did you think of Sarah and Bella?” she asked. 

“Pretty cool. Sarah, at least.” 

“And what do you plan on doing with that little trinket?”

Gabriel touched the box in his pocket. “I really don’t know yet.” 

Kali arched an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything else. The band started playing a jaunty and soulful song that immediately had him tapping his foot in tune. A piano player, a man on guitar, a keyword and a drum set. All dressed in black suits and managed to blend into the background. Except for the man singing. He was dressed in a snow-white suit with a white fedora, a little rose peeking up from his breast pocket. The lead singer started up a song that made Gabriel pause and swing his head around to band playing.

_“Just another night in New York City_  
Snow comes down, looks real pretty  
Don’t know how but suddenly there you are,  
With Jelly Roll Morton playin’ for the bar 

_Inside here, lights are low_  
But each song has its own glow  
As he floats them through that smokey air  
You just can’t believe he’s really there 

_How old is he? Cannot say_  
But claims he taught Cab Calloway  
And on this night I somehow believe him  
Knows every song that Christmas got  
Even ones my brain has dropped  
Just him and that old fir tree  
All lit up this night  
Electric blue 

His voice was captivating, and as the singer peered out into the audience it felt like he was singing not to a crowd, but to every single person that watched him. His baritone was both soulful and joyous and he snapped his fingers in time to the music as he paused. 

Kali tore her eyes away from the man and saw Gabriel staring at him with his mouth agape in apparent shock. “Gabriel?”

_Just another night in New York City_  
Snow comes down, looks real pretty  
Can’t believe but suddenly there you are  
Talking with strangers, sittin’ cross the bar  
Suddenly all are laughin’  
This night’s smart, always craftin’  
Building bridges nearly everywhere  
Hits a wall, just builds a stairs 

_Outside the colored lights they bleed_  
For snow is white and colors need  
As it just comes down like pure salvation  
It offers all its amnesty  
And makes your neighbors different see  
By the light of that fir tree  
And this old bar  
Electrified in blue 

Kali reached across the table and shook her weapon gently, snapping him from his trance. “Gabriel, what’s the matter?” she asked, glancing at the jazz singer once again. The eyes of everyone in the bar were locked onto the man, and he gave them a winning smile. She happened to catch a glimpse of ice-blue eyes and a lock of sandy hair as they peeked out from under the white fedora. 

“I need to talk to him after the show, Kali!” Gabriel said in a hurried whisper. He looked at her. “Please!” 

“Um, sure...?” she said, terribly confused. 

_I got a drop dead simple childhood view of salvation_  
Perhaps that’s always how it was meant to be  
And the more I add up all this information  
It seems it all comes down in the end to you and me 

_So you look around ‘til you find a phone_  
Then you call your mom and everyone at home  
And the bar looks on and they start to cheer  
When you talk to folks you haven’t seen in years 

_And the snow comes down_  
And the children play  
And they pray to God  
It never goes away  
And a childhood prayer   
Should never be denied  
As the night rolls on  
Til it’s carolized 

_Carolized!_  
Carolized…  
Carolized!  
Carolized… 

_And on this tree_  
The lights are done  
But the colors here are down one  
I guess it kind of fits the situation  
Ornaments still shining bright  
Watch them glitter in the light  
Just this old fir tree and me  
All lit up this night  
Electric blue 

The man finished his singing and every single person in the café and bar clapped until their hands were sore. The man sang several more songs, and all told stories of angels, of starry nights and lost loves and found hopes. He sung with wit and humor and heartache and longing. Kali felt herself get teary eyed at some songs and unable to stop smiling at others. 

Gabriel watched the band like a hawk, his golden eyes never leaving the white-suited man’s visage. He seemed impervious to the man’s melodious voice, and too soon the man took his final bow for the evening. While the band stayed onstage and kept playing, the singer disappeared into the bowels of the café. 

Gabriel grabbed his coat and motioned for Kali to do the same and follow him. 

~*~

There was a knock on the door of the band room and a simple “Come in.” When a teenage girl walked into the room as if she owned the place, the singer was more than a little confused, yet he didn’t show it. Just the amount of gold she wore alone told him she was someone he should be polite to. “Who are you?” he asked. 

“My name is Kali Shivan,” she introduced herself, looking around the tiny room, full of mostly instrumental cases than anything. “I just wanted to say it was pleasure listening to you tonight.” 

“My pleasure to sing to such a beautiful young lady,” he responded, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. 

“Still such a charmer, huh?” asked a voice. Both the singer (a man easily 30 or so with a sophisticated air to him that resonated with Kali) and the girl turned to see Gabriel standing in the room, eyes narrowed at him. 

The man tilted his head a little, giving Gabriel an appraising look, before a smile flashed over his lips. “Gabriel! How nice to see you. You haven’t grown much since last I saw you.” 

“Oh, a short joke, how original Luci,” Gabriel grumbled. “It’s not my fault the rest of you are ridiculously tall!” 

Kali noticed the man did tower over her, at least over six feet tall, compared to Gabriel being just a touch shorter than herself. 

“Luci?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at the man. He sighed. 

“It’s short for—“

“Lucifer!” Gabriel cut in. 

“ _Lucifer_?” Kali asked. 

The singer huffed. “No, it’s Lucien,” he said, glaring at Gabriel. “Gabriel’s fond of only the most irritating of nicknames.”

“And since its family tradition to be named after an angel, and Lucien’s here a pain in the ass—“ Gabriel taunted. 

“You two are _related_?”

Gabriel sighed. “Lucien is my…older brother. Second to Michael. I’m the baby,” he said quickly. 

Kali looked at Lucien, then at Gabriel. “You don’t look very similar,” she said. 

“We take from different sides of the family. By the way, how is dear Michael?” Lucien asked. There was a frosty tone to his words as he returned to his seat and motioned for them to sit in the few stools that didn’t have clutter on them. 

“He’s fine. Still has that stick up his ass he always did,” Gabriel reported. His legs kicked in the air a few inches off the floor. “And look at you. Ran away from home and are now singing jazz in the Big Apple. Aren’t you lucky.” 

“I didn’t run away!” Lucien said with a heated tone. “You know Michael and I couldn’t agree on anything,” Lucien said. “That included how I wanted to live my life. I’m sorry you can’t seem to understand that.” 

“I just don’t understand how you could leave and not send a letter or postcard or anything! We were worried about you!” Gabriel snapped. 

“Did Michael actually use those words?” 

Gabriel looked away and Lucien huffed. “Thought as much. I’m sorry for you, Gabriel. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I’d do it again to get out. Speaking of out, what are you doing here?”

“He’s with me,” Kali said, not liking to tone Lucien was using. “He’s my partner.” 

Gabriel shot her a look that clearly begged her to stop talking, but she didn’t see it. Either that or she ignored it. Lucien looked at her in interest. 

“Partner?”

“I’m a top-ranking Meister at the Death Weapon Meister Academy and he is my Weapon partner,” she said haughtily. Lucien narrowed his eyes and the small smirk of annoyance on his face changed to something akin to anger. 

“You disloyal little—“

“I don’t work for Michael!” Gabriel snapped. “After your big blowout I left too and went to the DWMA. I didn’t want what he asked for.” 

“So, instead of shedding blood for your family you’re now shedding blood on someone else’s orders?” 

“We save people, Lucien. I help save people. And I’m doing it because I want to, not because it’s my destiny or whatever other crap Mikey claimed it was.” 

Lucien let out a huge, world-weary sigh and looked at Gabriel for a long moment. Gabriel looked down at his hands and fiddled with his fingers. 

“I wish you could do what you did, Luci,” Gabriel said seriously. “But, I’m not strong enough. Not yet, anyways,” he gave Kali a warm smile, stunning the young lady with the sincerity of that grin. “But one day I’ll walk away.”

Lucien let out a little grin. “I’ve no doubt. Once a Milton makes up their mind, damn near impossible to change it later.” 

Kali snickered. “Milton is your actual surname?”

Gabriel glared at Lucien. “Way to blow my cover, jerk.” 

Lucien shrugged. “Let me guess. ‘Arc’Engle’ or some such nonsense?”

“How would you know that?”

“I helped raise you, Gabriel, what don’t I know about you?” Lucien’s eyes softened slightly. “I’m glad to see you again, but I think it’s time for you to go.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Gabriel got to his feet and Lucien got to his and they stared at each other for a long moment, unsure what to do. Eventually, they shared an awkward handshake. 

“Take care of Gabriel,” Lucien said to Kali. “Or, at least, try not to kill him.” 

Kali nodded. “No promises.” 

Gabriel glared at both of them. Just before they walked out of the door, Lucien spoke again. 

“Falling from grace isn’t easy, little brother, but…if you need help surviving the fall…”

“I’ll find you,” Gabriel finished. “Good-bye Luci.”

“Good bye Gabe.” 

~*~

They took a taxi cap back to Kali’s home, the penthouse suite of an apartment complex that was nicer than some mansions in the hills of Hollywood. On the way she’d called Ganesh and told him (in a rather innocent tone) that they were heading home and to let her father know. 

Gabriel was quiet and thoughtful, oftentimes turning the box with the pendant in his hands over and over, eyes faraway. They got to the apartment fairly early and Kali had him follow her to her room. He sat on her bed, still in his winter coat and jacket that Kali’s father and purchased for him just to wear at the party they didn’t attend. 

Kali slipped into her enormous private bathroom and, leaving the crack of the door open, changed from her evening wear into a silk robe. 

“So, did you know your brother was in New York?” Kali asked through the doorway as she changed. 

“He left home almost a year ago—I knew he was in the city somewhere, but I never thought—I never thought I’d see him again. He just… _left_.” Gabriel sounded on the verge of tears. 

“All because of an argument?”

“All because both of my brothers are stubborn assholes who can’t admit to being wrong,” Gabriel growled. “I know you’re probably dying of curiosity, but can we not talk about it?”

When she exited Gabriel was still looking just as lost as when she had gone in. “Are you going to give that pendant to Sam?” she asked him when she returned. Changing the topic was her way of respecting Gabriel’s wish. 

Gabriel startled, his cheek reddened slightly. 

“Um…maybe? I haven’t, uh, decided yet….why? Do you think he wouldn’t like it?”

“I’m sure Sam would appreciate a paperclip if you gave him one,” Kali said with a grin. 

“If Sarah hadn’t given it to me, you weren’t going to offer to pay for it, were you?” he asked. 

“Certainly not full price,” Kali said, sounding incensed.

“Kali, you don’t have to do things like that,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. “I can handle myself, you know…but, thanks for the thought.” 

“If that little pendant helps you garner more of Sam’s affections, I’m not opposed to helping.” 

Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “Do _what_?!”

“Oh, your crush on Sam is quite obvious,” Kali said easily as she stored away her pile of golden jewelry in an old oak dresser. “And if you’re trying to gain his favor, you aren’t’ trying to gain mine, and I really can’t afford such distractions right now. So, I’m willing to help.” 

Gabriel let out a long laugh. “Kali, I think you just might be the best wingman _ever_!” 

Kali chuckled. “I know. Now then, are you going to mope there all night, or are you going to go get changed and we’ll watch some T.V. until Mother and Father come home?”

“Definitely!” With Gabriel spirits back up, he leapt from the bed out the door, but not before pausing to give her a back-breaking hug. “Thanks again, Kali.” 

“You’re welcome, Gabriel. Merry Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both the lyrics and the mental image of Mark Pellegrino (Lucifer) wearing a suit and fedora while singing jazz in NYC came from Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s “Christmas Nights in Blue”. It’s one of my favorite songs from my favorite bands and once I had the idea I couldn’t let this fic continue without it!   
> Lucifer is one of my favorite characters from the show, and since this is an AU I really wanted to play around with him and his little cameo. I really hope you liked it! I also hoped you liked Bella and Sarah’s cameos. Let me know what you think in the comments, and I’ll keep working diligently on this fic. I’d say we’re about halfway done!


	31. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Pamela find out? And will Dean finally get a hint?!

There was a bit of movement, a little groan as he stretched, and he slowly blinked awake. His emerald eyes were bleary and out of focus, but the fog of sleep didn’t prevent him from startling slightly when he realized someone was staring at him. From only a few inches away. Someone with impossibly bright blue eyes and that soul-piercing, pensive stare. 

“Cas,” Dean mumbled, realizing who was staring at him so intently. “We talked ‘bout this, remember? Personal space?” He was trying to be irritated, but he felt his cheeks warm. He ran a hand over his face to make the stupid blush go away. He should’ve jumped or swore or punched Cas for startling him—why the hell was he _blushing_?

Castiel blinked, and it was as if a trance had been broken. “My apologies,” he said humbly and moved back. He was in Bobby’s desk chair, and had been leaning over and staring at Dean who was asleep on the couch. It had been decided that Jo could sleep in her own room again. While Sam had volunteered to make a palette on her floor to keep her company, Dean had made Cas take his bed after a lot of arguing. 

“Why were you staring at me?” Dean mumbled, flopping back down on the couch, closing his eyes. He really didn’t want to wake up, especially when it sounded like no one else was up yet. 

“I wasn’t staring. I was trying to determine if the freckles on your face made any similar patterns to the constellations.” 

Dean moved the arm he’d flopped over his face and peeked at his partner. Castiel looked totally serious. “Dude, you were trying to see if my freckles looked like constellations? That’s weird.” 

Castiel huffed, but he wouldn’t look Dean in the eye. “No stranger than your compulsion to check cereal boxes for spiders.” 

Dean held up a finger. “That is a _legitimate_ issue. Don’t come crying to me when a tarantula jumps out of a box of Raisin Bran and rips your throat out.”

“Baring the fact that spiders can’t rip anything, if it does rip out my throat, I wouldn’t be able to move or ask for assistance either way. I’d be dead.” 

Dean blindly smacked his partner’s shoulder. He could just picture the smirk on Castiel’s face, that little barely-there grin he’d sport when he was being a cocky and sarcastic little shit. It had taken a while for Dean to get Cas to loosen up, and here he was, cracking a joke. A really weird joke, but one nonetheless. 

Dean would take what he could get. 

~*~

Since Pamela wasn’t going to be there until the afternoon, the family and their guests were left to their own devices for most of the day. Which meant that Castiel and Sam finally got to do what they’d been itching to do since arriving at Dean’s house: raid Bobby’s library. They carefully pulled down books and journals and sat quietly in the library, pouring over the books in companionable silence. Every once in a while Sam would spout a fact off to Cas, or Cas would rumble off an idea to Sam—the bookworms seemed to be quite content.

Dean ran off with Bobby and Rufus out into the junkyard, eager to get his hands back into an engine. Bobby made it a point to check over the Chevelle, and while he was pleased with the car’s condition, he couldn’t help but note: “The windshield looks better than the rest of the car!” Dean shrugged it off and didn’t say anything. 

He helped Bobby and Rufus diagnose a few junkers with engine problems before finally, finally, Bobby let him under the hood of his pride and joy, the only car without a speck of rust on it, the Impala. The car had been a restoration project he and John had started a long time ago; after John and Sam disappeared, Bobby alone had finished the project. Dean had always taken a shine to the car, and he was allowed to help change the oil and check the filters before the cold sent them back inside. 

Dean came in with a grin on his face and his arms black with grease and oil all the way up to his elbows. He walked into the kitchen and froze, several things making him pause:

One, there was the most heavenly smell of cooked fruit in the air that made his mouth water. Two, Castiel was wearing a pink apron several sizes too small and splattered with white specks of flour and dough. Three, Castiel was standing there with a pie sitting on the oven. 

Dean blinked, and he wasn’t sure what to do, so he stood there for several seconds too long before coming up with a very elegant “Uh, Cas…what’re you…?”

Castiel turned around and motioned towards the dessert. “Your mother wanted to make a pie, since you like them so much.” 

“But, the, uh…” Dean motioned towards his body, unable to get the words ‘pink apron’ out of his mouth for fear he’d fall over laughing and never stop. 

Castiel looked down at himself and rolled his eyes. “Your sister demanded I wear this, as it was proper kitchen attire,” he said seriously. 

Dean burst out into side-splitting laughter, and once started he couldn’t stop. He even slapped his knee a few times as he struggled to breath. Castiel was baking a pie and wearing his kid sister’s apron. Oh, God, that was the funniest thing Dean had ever _seen_. 

“Would you like to try some? It’s cooled sufficiently,” Castiel said.

Dean tried to act like it was no big deal. His friend made a pie, that was awesome. He was a little wary of trying it because he’d never seen Cas bake before but he was going to at least play nice and try a bite. 

Well, he was sure he thought that until he tried a bite of the apple pie, and almost melted into a puddle of ooze on the floor. “Oh, my, God, Cas, this is amazing!” he said. 

“I followed your mother’s recipe.” 

“This is so much better than Mom’s!” 

“Apparently she said I had innate baking talent,” he said without a hint of bragging. He stated it as simply as if reporting the weather. 

“Dude, you’ve been holding out on me this whole time? What a dick move!” 

“If it helps, I was unaware of this ability myself,” Castiel said. “I’ve never baked before.” 

“Welp, you will be now! Pies every day!” 

“I can’t bake pies every day. When would I do homework?”

“Screw homework, pie is more important.”

“I’m sure Lord Death would disagree with you.” 

“Until he tasted it! Well, I wonder if the Grim Reaper can eat anything, actually…”

Castiel rolled his eyes, obviously trying not to let Dean’s compliments get the better of him. 

Dean was grinning like an idiot at the image of his friend in the pink apron feeding him pie. Until the thought that the image was kinda hot, with Castiel’s messy hair and flour-splattered hands with the rolled up shirt sleeves and, well, pie, that sobered Dean up real quick. Because what the hell was that? Cas wasn’t hot, he was Dean’s _partner_ , and not to mention a _guy_. Also, when the hell did pie become a turn on?

“Dean?” Castiel asked, seeing the change on Dean’s expression. Dean was suddenly backing away like Cas was contagious. A look of surprise graced the Weapon’s face.

“I, uh, forgot to wash up, that’s all!” Dean basically ran to the bathroom and spent a good ten minutes scrubbing the black gunk off of his hands.

Dean refused to think about what he’d just thought about. He wasn’t interested in guys, only girls. He wasn’t interested in Castiel like that, no, nope, no way. He was straight, he wasn’t crushing on his roommate, no, nothing like that. 

Since his shirt was stained, and still telling himself he was just a little confused, he headed to his old room and pulled out an extra shirt from the drawer. He sat on his bed and looked up at the curvaceous woman clad in skimpy outfits in the posters around his room. _Yep, see, definitively into chicks_ , Dean decided firmly as he stared at them dreamily. Until a portion of his mind, not happy with this status quo, decided to make an observation that once seen, couldn’t see unseen. 

He blinked, and looked again, and slowly looked at every poster with a woman on it in his room. While that little portion was cheering at a job well done, the rest of him sank in stupefaction and despair. Even his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Every single woman was a brunette. 

And every _single_ one of them had bright blue eyes. 

But their eyes were dull and listless compared to Castiel’s. They were blank and glazed over compared to his penetrative and all-seeing gaze. 

“Okay, I have a type!” Dean muttered to himself. “So what?” 

_So, Cas fits the type_ , that little part of his mind snickered. 

“He’s got the same hair and eyes, big deal. I like girls, I like curves, I like T&A!” he said. 

Why did Cas dressed in his old sleep clothes have to pass through his brain right then? Why did the memory of him waking up on test day with his partner sleeping pressed up against him have to fly by? 

Why in the _world_ did Castiel’s bare back make him blush and freeze and act like a _girl_?

“Son of a bitch!” Dean swore as he buried his head in his hands. His cheeks were so red he could have probably cooked a steak on them to a good medium-rare. 

Dean Winchester had a friggin’ crush on his roommate. 

_Fan-friggin-tastic_.

~*~

By the time the doorbell rang in the late afternoon everyone was on pins and needles, especially Sam. Answers to so many questions lie just beyond the door—did he really want to know the truth about himself, about this family, about his past. Well, he’d already agreed to it, but he was still jittery with nerves as Bobby opened the front door and a beautiful woman in jeans and a black leather jacket strolled in. 

“Pamela!” Bobby said in good cheer. “Great to see you as always.”

“You two, Bobby. Glad to have the excuse to get out into the sunshine. Ellen! It’s been too long. The bar misses you, you know.” 

The women shared a hug. “Way too long,” Ellen agreed. 

“Aunt Pamela!” 

“Oh, kid, you’re gettin’ big!” Pamela said as she swept up the 10-year-old and pecked her on the cheek. “What’s your Mom feeding you, MiracleGro?”

“That’s for plants,” Jo told her. 

“Then you’re a downright weed, at the rate you’re growing!” she said, putting the girl down. 

Rufus, still not really believing in Pamela’s abilities, had decided to pick that afternoon to chase a lead on a possible wendigo in northern Montana. It had been bittersweet, and even Sam was sad to see the giant black man leave. It was always hilarious to hear Bobby and Rufus fling sarcastic barbs at each other. 

She came up to Dean and whistled. “Dean! When did you get to be so handsome?” 

Dean looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve always been handsome!”

“That you have. Must be in the genes,” she said as she looked both him and Sam up and down. 

“Let me guess. Sam?” she asked. 

Sam nodded and held out a hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise. And this is….?”

“Castiel. Or, Cas, for short,” the Weapon said. 

Sam noticed an odd little tension between Dean and Cas, but tried not to dwell on it too much. Although, the fact that Cas kept giving Dean these vaguely worried looks and Dean was doing all he could to not look at Cas was distracting, to say the least. 

An easy grin spread over Pamela’s face. Her dark hair bounced when she walked and she had a smile that could light up a room. Sam immediately liked her. 

“So, Sam. Why don’t you and me go have a little talk about why I’m here. Sound good?”

“Just you two?” Dean asked. 

“It would be a bit easier to do this without five other brains buzzing around me at the same time,” Pamela admitted. “That alright, Sam?”

Sam nodded, and with good luck nods he followed Pamela into the library. Ellen closed the sliding doors to the kitchen so they’d have some privacy. Pamela took the desk chair and patted the seat for Sam to sit in and took another chair to sit in front of him. 

“So, Sam, you think you might have some repressed memories up in the old think tank, huh?” she said pleasantly as she made herself comfortable before him. 

Sam let out a little breath. “Um, well, that’s what Bobby seems to think.” 

“Is that what _you_ think?”

“I, uh, I dunno. Maybe? There’s some things that I guess I’m supposed to be remembering, but I’m not. So, what’re you gonna do? Poke around and see what’s there?”

Pamela gave him a reassuring grin as she took his hands into her own. “I don’t poke around anywhere, I promise. Just think of this as a little psychic sonar sweep of the bottom of a lake. This is just to get a lay of the land.” 

Sam nodded and sighed. “I’m just a bit…nervous.” 

“Perfectly normal,” she said with ease. “It’s a little odd letting someone in when you’re not used to it. Just relax. Big, deep breathes. There you go. Now, this isn’t exactly my forte. I’m better at talking to spirits and entities on the other side than reading people, but Bobby asked very nicely. I’m just going to take a little peek in your brain and see if there’s anything to his suspicion. That alright?”

Sam nodded again. Pamela closed her eyes, and he followed suit, feeling odd about holding some strange woman’s hands and trying not to think anything too embarrassing—

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it,” she chuckled. “Just try to not to think too much, alright?”

“Those are the first words I remember,” Sam mumbled, startled slightly. 

Pamela’s face scrunched up in concentration. “Really? That’s your first memory? Well, hold onto that Sam, let me see if I can follow that trail, alright?”

Her words didn’t make much sense, but he replayed the memory in his head. 

_Ugly wallpaper, Dad—John—pacing back and forth, ‘Don’t think too hard.’_

“Can you go back any further?” she asked. 

Sam tried to think back further, but there was nothing there for him to grasp. “Sorry.” 

“No problem. Now, let’s see—“

It felt like a ghost passing through his mind, a slight breeze that caressed everything in its path. It was the weirdest thing he’d ever felt, and he tried not to squirm. 

“Sorry Sam, almost done,” she said. “I think Bobby might’ve jumped the gun, I’m not seeing anything—oh, wait a second.”

“What?”

“Well, that’s different.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Sam. But, there’s… _a wall_.” 

“A wall?”

“Not a physical one, but it’s there. I think Bobby was right, someone’s been in here.” 

The presence disappeared, and Sam opened his eyes to find Pamela blinking with a look of surprise on her face. “Bobby called that one,” she said, before patting Sam’s hand, trying to reassure him.

He didn’t feel any better. 

~*~

“So I was right?” Bobby asked. 

“Yeah, from the looks of it, someone blocked off a chunk of Sam’s memories. No idea why though,” Pamela said. She was in the middle of the kitchen addressing everyone at large. 

“Can you break the wall?” Ellen asked. 

Pamela shook her head. “Only the person who put it up can take it down. If I go and start poking it, I could do more damage than its worth.” 

“Great, John’s been running around the country for 12 years, who the hell knows who did this!” Bobby snapped in irritation. 

“Well, it was certainly a real psychic that did it,” Pamela offered. “Not a witch or demon. That narrow it down?”

“Sure, because it’s so easy to distinguish a real psychic from a fake one these days,” Bobby growled. 

“Always such a gloomy grump,” Pamela said with a frown. She looked at Sam for a few minutes, tapping her chin in thought. “Sam, what’s your hometown?”

Sam opened his mouth, but closed it again. With a sheepish grin, his gaze flickered to Bobby. 

“Lawrence, Kansas,” Bobby answered. 

Surprising everyone, Pamela grinned. “Well, I’ve got the first brick in your yellow-brick road.

“You _know_ someone?” Ellen asked. 

“That I do. A real psychic, guaranteed, and a people reader, unlike me. She might be able to point you in the right direction, if she’s not the culprit herself.”

“This lady got a name?” Dean asked. 

“Missouri Mosely. So far as I know, she’s still in town and does readings to pay the bills.”

“Should we call down there?” Ellen asked.

“I wouldn’t. Hold onto the element of surprise as long as you have it,” Pamela said. 

“There’s such a thing with you people?” Bobby quipped. 

“We aren’t omniscient! Despite what Rufus might think, we can’t predict everything. Otherwise I’d definitely play the lottery more often.”

“And scratchers! Can’t forget those,” Dean added. 

“Or horse tracks,” Bobby said, earning a glare from his wife.

“You’re better than that!” Jo said staunchly. 

“Honey, whoever told you that was downright lying,” she said with a chuckle. 

“Well, then,” Bobby said. “Sounds like a family road-trip to me.” 

~*~

Jo wasn’t happy about the situation, at all. 

She didn’t want to miss the road trip, especially not when it might help her new cousin get his memory back. She liked Sam, he helped save her life, so she begged and pleaded and threatened. Ellen didn’t budge. They would watch over the house while the rest of the boys took the trip to Kansas. This way, they didn’t have to put two cars through the 12-hour roundtrip. 

Jo was still stewing as she stood on the steps, tiny arms crossed over her body as they waved good-bye. Bobby sighed as he and the four teenagers headed towards the cars. 

“She can’t stay mad forever,” Dean tried to say cheerfully.

Bobby gave him a look. “Thanks Dr. Phil. You clearly have no clue when it comes to women.”

Dean pulled out the keys to the old Chevelle when his dad stopped him by throwing a different set of keys at him. “Dad, what’re….no, no way!” Emerald eyes lit up in questioning, but they were already brimming in excitement.

“If I’m traveling 6 hours, I’m not riding in a backup rust bucket,” Bobby grumbled. “I’d like something I can stretch my legs out in.”

“We’re taking the Impala!” Dean exclaimed. 

“And you’re driving.”

“And I’m—wait, _what_? I’m driving?!”

“Keep acting like we’re going to the prom, princess, and I’ll be driving.” 

Sam and Cas simply shook their heads, but Dean didn’t care. He was driving the Impala! 

~*~

_Knock knock._

There was a moment of silence before the white door slowly opened, and a large black woman peered out at him. “Yes? Can I help you?” she asked, voice suspicious. 

Sam rubbed his neck awkwardly and tried to smile a disarming grin. “Uh, hi. Are you Missouri Mosely?”

“Depends on who’s askin’,” she said. 

“My name is Sam Winchester. I, um, think we might have, um…met before?”

She opened her door fully and gazed Sam a once over before shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t think so.” 

Dean suddenly stepped forward, smiling cheerfully. “What my friend _meant_ to say was ‘Hi, my name is Sam Winchester. When I was four years old you Humpty Dumpty-ed me and now we’re hoping you can put me back together again.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes and groaned. 

She blinked a few times in surprise. “What in the world are—Pamela Barnes sent you?”

Dean and Sam shared a look. Cas stood behind them, watching both the exchange on the psychic’s front porch while also keeping an eye on the car and the street. Sam noticed how, once again, Dean and Cas seemed to be trying to ignore each other for whatever reason. 

Missouri looked them over once again and sighed. “Alright, come on, we’re letting all the heat out.” She herded the boys inside to her living room. It was small and quaint. Homey was the term that came to mind. 

The three teenagers sat on her couch, Dean sliding down slightly to stretch out his legs. 

_Smack!_

“What the hell was that for!” Dean snapped as a wooden spoon smacked into his head. She came around to sit on another couch across from them. She was wearing an apron, so the spoon made a little more sense. 

“No shoes on my coffee table!” she barked. 

“I didn’t put ‘em up there!” 

“Yeah, well, you were certainly _thinkin’_ it.” 

Dean rubbed the back of his head. “Stupid psychics knowing everything,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Want me to smack you again?” she asked with a glower. Dean stayed quiet. Cas looked ready to jump up and defend his Meister’s honor, but only if he really had to. Missouri was a formidable foe.

Bobby was sitting in another chair. “Can ya stop threatening to beat my son, or at least not do it in front of me?” he asked wearily.

Missouri whipped around to him. “Your boy needs to learn how to not insult people.” 

“Beating him ain’t gonna make it sink in any deeper,” Bobby said with a shrug. 

Missouri looked between them, before zeroing in on Sam. “So, what was so important you just had to show up here without a phone call?”

“You don’t know?” Dean asked with a cocky tone. 

Missouri sighed. “Bobby, Dean, Castiel, Sam,” she said, pointing to them. “You two are partners, you two are father and son, you two are cousins. But you…” She pointed to Sam. “You don’t believe you’re related to them. No, you don’t _know_ that you’re related. In here,” she pointed to her heart. “You think I might have altered your memories from when you were younger and are here to see if I did, and if I can fix it. Right?”

It took Sam a moment to realize she was asking him a question. “Right,” Sam said. “So, um, did you?” He was glad she was a psychic, it made the whole conversation move a lot faster. 

Missouri thought for several long moments, hands steepled in front of her. 

“Well, do you recognize him or no?” Dean pressed. 

Missouri glared at him. “Boy, don’t test me! I’ve had a lot of folk come and go over the years—you all start to blend together after a while! But…you said twelve years ago, right? Your father’s name is John Winchester?”

“Yeah, that’s it! I guess we used to live around here,” Sam said. 

“Sam hasn’t seen John in a while. You don’t happen to know where he is, do you?” Bobby asked. 

“I can read energies in a room, figure out people’s thoughts, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air,” Missouri said. 

“But, you do know Sam? Did you do something to him all those years ago?” Bobby continued. 

Despite being such a big woman, she seemed to shrink in on herself just a little when their collective gaze was locked on her. 

“I knew it was only going to be a matter of time before you found me and asked me that very question,” Missouri said, scowling. “Sam, when you were a little kid, something happened to you that was so terrifying, your Father wanted the memory hidden away, so you wouldn’t be traumatized.”

“And that’s what you did?” Sam asked, tone low, head bent forward. 

“It seemed the best thing to do at the time. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I buried that memory as deep as I could. By why are you asking now? What will exhuming this long-dead memory do for you after all this time?”

“You didn’t just take that memory or whatever from me!” Sam snapped in suddenly fury. He looked onto her with burning eyes. “You took _them_ , too!” he motioned towards Dean and Bobby. “I don’t remember anything from before being four years old! Not my Mom, or my Dad, or the fact that I had an aunt, uncle, a _cousin_! When I couldn’t remember them, Dad—John—let me grow up believing we were completely alone in the world. You let that happen!”

“Sammy, cool it,” Dean said, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder to break him from his anger. 

There was a look of horror that changed to one of resignation. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I tried to tell your father it wasn’t foolproof. He was trying to protect you. But I—I must’ve tried too hard, buried too much. You don’t remember a thing?”

“No thanks to you,” Sam spat. 

“Is there any way you can undo what you did?” Castiel asked somberly.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Missouri said. “After all this time, after all that effort…the only thing that will come from this is pain. Do you really want that?”

“I need to know,” Sam answered. “I want to know what happened. What the hell is this big secret? And I want them back,” he said with simple conviction. Dean grinned at Sam’s words. Hard to believe they came from a guy who a few days ago thought he didn’t have any family. 

“You truly think this is the only thing to do?” She let out a sigh. “…I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll see what I can do,” Missouri said. 

“All we ask is that you try,” Bobby said. 

Missouri sighed and went into her tiny kitchen, returning apronless (and spoonless, much to Dean’s relief). She shooed Cas and Dean off the couch and motioned for Sam to lay down. She moved a chair to where his head was so she could reach him. 

“Just know that whatever happens I can’t put anything back, Sam. Once Pandora’s Box is open, I can’t close it again,” she warned. 

Sam took a steadying breath. He felt like he was about to go up against a kishin-egg. “Please,” he asked. 

Missouri took a few moments and seemed to gather herself before placing her hands on Sam’s temples. “The best way to do this is for me to hypnotize you, Sam, and walk you back through the memories I blocked off. So, listen to my voice. Breathe calmly and listen to me count backwards from ten. As I get closer to one, the sleepier you’ll be, until you’re deep asleep. 10, 9, 8…”

Dean found himself standing next to Cas and tried not to stare, but it was so hard not to. Cas was watching the psychic, both intrigued and wary, and didn’t notice his Meister’s eyes on him. The kid was a little taller than when they’d met at the beginning of the year, and he still had that crazy hair and eyes that always looked wise beyond his years. 

Cas’s eyes flickered towards him, but Dean managed to look away in time. He noticed Cas’s shoulders sink just a touch, but Dean resolutely ignored him. He might have looked impassive but inside his brain was a wreck. Even after spending most of the car trip working out his thoughts on the matter, he still had no clue was he thought about Cas. 

“2, you’re almost asleep. And 1, you’re deep asleep. Still with me, Sam?”

“Yeah…” Sam mumbled, eyes moving under his closed eyelids. “ S’really dark here…”

“I’m getting there, kid. Sam, do you see anything?” Missouri asked. 

“No…dark everywhere….no, wait. There’s a…brick wall. I think there’s…a door in it?”

There was sweat on her forehead as she made a path for Sam to tread. “I need you to go to that door and go through it.”

O..kay…” A moment of silence passed as Sam made his way through the image of the door in the brick wall. “What the…?”

“What do you see, Sam?”

“I see…a woman with blonde hair…she’s laughing…giving me a bath,” he said with a lazy grin. “Mom…” No one pointed out the little tear that escaped Sam’s closed eyes. “She’s reading a book to me…and we’re dancing to the radio….”

“And there’s Da—John. He’s…smiling. We’re outside…it’s sunny…it looks like a fair.”

“What else, Sam?”

“I see…a clown in the crowd, he waved at me. I waved back. I like clowns,” he said easily. 

“Since when?” Dean asked quietly. Cas nudged him in the ribs a little harder than necessary to quiet him. 

“I think I’m…four?” Sam replied. “We went on the bumper cars…I hit Dad a bunch. Cotton candy…laughing…that’s a good memory.”

“Keep moving Sam. We’re getting closer.” 

“It’s…night now.” Suddenly Sam frowned. “It’s the middle of the night. I’m awake, and something’s calling me…”

“Calling you?” Missouri asked. 

“I’m getting out of bed…to the back door…it’s the clown,” Sam said with sudden fear in his voice. “It’s there…oh, God, no, I know I shouldn’t but he seems friendly…I can’t stop myself, I’m opening the door for it!” 

Sam suddenly let out a horrified yelp and bucked, almost throwing off Missouri completely. He began violently shaking. “Mom, get back. MOM, GET BACK!” Sam roared. Just before Bobby and the boys could grab Sam and keep him still, Missouri spoke.

“Sam, Sam! It’s just a memory!” Missouri tried to calm him, but Sam flung his arm out so hard he actually sent Missouri flying through the air like a lifeless doll. She crashed into a wall and crumpled into a pile on the floor, dazed. 

“Sammy!” Dean and Cas leapt forward to try and keep Sam from hurting himself and Bobby ran to Missouri’s side. Sam continued to scream and fight back the nightmare he was reliving. 

“Sam, listen to me!” Missouri managed to yell. “One, two, three, you’re awake!” 

Sam’s eyes snapped open and he flung himself over the arm of the couch away from the other teenagers. He rolled back to his feet before he simply collapsed, arms crossed over his chest, and sobs shaking his whole frame. Bobby helped Missouri get back to her feet. Except for a crack in the wall and a bump on the back of her head, she was unhurt. 

“Sam?” Dean asked. “You alright man?”

“I…killed her,” he simply said. He looked up at everyone. “I killed my Mom…I let that thing inside the house, and it attacked her. I let it in… _I let it in_ …”

There was a shocked and heavy silence that descended over the living room. Dean was the first to react. He strode around the couch and went right for Sam's shaking frame. 

“Sam, you were a kid, you didn’t know,” he said. He got down on his knees in front of Sam and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. “You were a _kid_ , you didn’t _know_!” 

“I killed her! That clown thing attacked her…oh god there was blood on the floor….the counter…she screamed for me to run. Dad came…he took a cleaver to it, didn’t faze it.” Sam reported the memory with a strange calmness, as if reciting a book report. Dean recognized shock in his cousin. “He grabbed me, we ran outside, and then she screamed, and the house was on fire…oh, my God, _I killed my Mom_!” 

“You were a child, Sam!” Bobby said suddenly, squatting down next to Sam and squeezing his shoulder in comfort.

Sam gave him a defeated look. “I killed her, Uncle Bobby…I killed her.”

~*~

Sam was huddled on the couch with a blanket over his shoulder. The tears had stopped, but he was suffering through a painful headache and he was swaying unconsciously. Dean was right next to him, an arm thrown casually over the boy’s shoulders to keep him comforted and upright. 

“You…remember me, now?” Bobby asked, sitting on Sam’s other side.

“Uncle Bobby,” Sam said without hesitation. “Aunt Ellen. Cousin Dean. Now I’ve got Cousin Jo, too...God, I feel like I’m going to hurl…” 

“I bet that clown monster you saw was a Rakshasa, Sam,” Dean said with sudden authority. “And I bet when you and John got away it followed you up to my place to try and finish the job. Sam, you were going to die by that thing one way or another. If you didn’t let it inside it was going to get it. Once it picks a victim it doesn’t let up.” 

Bobby nodded. “I figured the same thing. It followed you and your old man to our place. And that explains why John got spooked after the attack. Bet he recognized the damned thing.”

“I’m so sorry, Sam. When your father told me what happened, I thought I was doing the best thing for you. I’m so sorry,” Missouri said sincerely. 

“Sam, you didn’t kill anyone,” Bobby told him sternly. “It was an accident.” 

“NO! I did it! No wonder my Dad treated me like crap all these years, I killed his wife!” Sam said with sudden venom. He squirmed to get away but Bobby wasn’t having it. 

“You were a victim of a creature out for blood, Sam! You can’t change the past. You didn’t do anything wrong, kid. That’s no excuse for treating you badly, Sam, and when I finally do catch up with my brother we’re going to have more than just heated words exchanged.”

There was anger in Bobby’s words that momentarily stumped Sam. He’d never had someone get mad on his behalf before. Then again, he’d never had an uncle before, either. But he still gave Bobby a disbelieving look. 

Missouri leaned down in front of Sam and took him hands into her own. “Sam. You’ve made a mistake, but I think everyone here would agree that you’ve paid for that mistake, in more ways than one. So you know what you do now? Pick yourself up and start anew. Not everyone gets a second chance to _walk away from darkness_.”

There was something to her tone that made Sam look up at her. She gave him a knowing look. “Everyone screws up. You can turn things around. _You can change your mind, Sam_.”

The blood drained from his face slightly as he realized her meaning. He opened his mouth but she shook her head. “Just something you need to think about, Sam,” she said simply. “I’d say you’re in good hands, wouldn’t you?”

Sam looked up at Bobby, then Dean, and finally Cas who was hovering just out of arm’s reach behind the couch. All three looked at him with concern, and for the first time in his life he felt it—the connection to Dean and Bobby Dean knew had been there all along. But now it wasn’t some factoid—Sam could feel it in his bones. 

_They’re my family._

“Yeah…I think…I’ll be alright.” 

~*~ 

“What did I do to upset you?”

Castiel tried to sound nonchalant—he asked as easily as if asking if it was going to rain. The little tremble of hurt that reverberated through his gruff voice still cut Dean to the quick. The Meister glanced from the road to his partner sitting in the passenger seat. 

They had left Missouri’s quickly, eager to get back home, and opted to drive through the night to do so. Castiel was turned away, looking out the window; the low light of the streetlights that passed overhead gave him an otherworldly, sagely quality.

“I’m not upset,” Dean answered quickly, voice low. 

“You haven’t talked to me most of the day.” 

Dean tried not to wince. He hadn’t meant to do that—after coming to terms with the fact that he was crushing on his partner, he suddenly couldn’t say anything to Cas. He didn’t want to look at Cas or talk to him, hoping the stupid gay-ass feeling would go away if he ignored it, ignored Cas. 

All if left him with was a bitter taste on his tongue and a grouchy friend.

“Yeah, well…we’re talking now, right? See, I’m fine, we’re fine.” _Very smooth, Dean_.

Castiel huffed and turned to look at Dean, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. “I’d be more inclined to believe you if you weren’t white-knuckling the steering wheel as you said it.”

Dean could hear the leather of the steering wheel cover creak and groan as he pulled his hands from it. His fingers were almost cramping. Shit.

“It’s just…well, you know, the whole thing with Sam and stuff…I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Not technically a lie. 

Castiel mulled that over. “You ate the bite of pie and haven’t spoken to me since. I thought your mother had lied to me, and that the pie was so bad it struck you mute.”

Dean barked out a laugh louder than he meant. “No way! Your pie is awesome, don’t let anyone tell you different!” 

Dean realized how that could be taken and resolutely went back to staring out the windshield once more. He stifled a huge yawn and rubbed his eyes. The marathon driving was starting to take its toll on him. 

“I…thank you, Dean. That was very kind of you to say.” Cas said quickly. 

“Oh, for God’s sakes, you two are breaking my heart,” growled a voice from the backseat. 

“D-Dad! You’re awake?” Dean felt like sinking into the leather seat and dying. How much did Bobby hear?

“I ain’t sleep-walking,” Bobby growled. He sat up and let out a little groan as he stretched. “Hate being old,” he muttered under his breath. He looked over and saw Sam was still asleep—he’d been that way for most of the return trip. Every once in a while he let out a little whimper, but the talking didn’t seem to wake him. 

Dean yawned again, unable to hide it from his Dad’s sharp eyes. 

“Pull over, Romeo, before you kill us all.” 

Dean was torn between jerking the wheel and sending them crashing into a tree and dying in a fiery death, or pretending he didn’t hear what his Dad called him. The second option kept the Impala uninjured, at least. 

He pulled over to a stretch of abandoned farmland and there was a momentary pause in the rhythm of the trip. Everyone got out a stretched, then came to the side in order to peer in at the still-sleeping Sam. 

“How’s he doing?” Dean asked. 

“Can’t say,” Bobby scratched his head under his cap. “He hasn’t said much since we left Missouri’s place.” 

“He’s got a lot jumbled up in his head he’s gotta straighten out,” Dean said. 

Bobby let out a long-suffering sigh. “Dammit, I shoulda left well enough alone. I shouldn’t have pressed the issue…”

“Dad, you were worried! If Jo and her kid disappeared for over a decade I’d do everything I could to find them, too.”

Bobby shook his head. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Will you now concentrate on locating Sam’s father?” Castiel asked. 

“One thing at a time. At the moment the priority is getting’ you kids home. Come on.” 

Castiel climbed in the back with Sam, Dean moved to the passenger, and Bobby took over driving. With Missouri’s words buzzing in his brain, Dean couldn’t fall asleep until he snuck a look behind him. Once he saw Cas was out and sleeping peacefully, he could finally settle down and sleep overtook him. 

~*~

It was exceptionally late (or very early depending) when the Impala pulled up to the house. Bobby and Dean roused Sam and got him inside, but Castiel paused before setting foot on the porch steps. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He swung around to the junkyard but didn’t hear or sense anything amiss. Silently, he made his way to the stacks of cars behind the house. He was silent and on edge, ready to strike if an enemy presented itself. 

“Castiel,” a voice said. The teenager whirled around to find a black man in a suit standing under the light amidst the clearing. He had a stern, commanding presence, mingled with an underlying threat. He was very much the human personification of a snake waiting to strike. 

Castiel didn’t let down his guard, not even more a moment. He did straighten up and stand at attention, an action ingrained in his bones. “Hello Raphael,” he said stiffly. There was no warmth or affection in the greeting. 

Raphael stepped towards Castiel, disdainfully eyeing the junk cars around them. “You haven’t checked in for some time.”

“There’s been nothing to report,” Castiel said. 

“Oh, I’ve heard otherwise. You and your partner killed the Krampus. I’d say that’s a tidbit worth noting, don’t you?”

Cas tried not to wince or flinch, even as Raphael came into arms reach and was looking down at him with a dangerous edge in his eyes. 

“Your failure to report consistently not only made me come find you, but now you feel the urge the lie to me as well? I’m starting to think letting you go to the DWMA was a mistake.”

Cas didn’t say anything, but he stood straight and looked Raphael right in the eye. “Well, since you already knew about the Krampus, there was no point in me telling you, was there?”

“Don’t get cocky, or I might start to think your partner is teaching you bad habits. Don’t strive to be more than what you are, Castiel. You’re a weapon, a good little soldier who follows orders,” Raphael snarled. “Tell me, your partner, is he going to be worthy of our cause?”

The teenager didn’t say anything. 

Raphael looked out into the sky. “You can’t feel it, Castiel, but a war’s coming. A war that will require sacrifice, bloodshed, pain. There’s nothing we can do to stop it, all we can do is be prepared for when that time comes. So, Castiel, is Dean worthy of the mantle of Bladeholder? Or will I be forced to find you a truly _worthy_ partner?”

Castiel looked calm, but Raphael caught the sight of his slightly shaking fists, and the hard edge to his blue eyes that had never been there before. 

“Dean will…be more than sufficient for our cause,” Castiel bit off every word. 

“That’s what I needed to hear,” Raphael nodded once. “Make sure he _stays_ useful, Castiel.” 

Castiel blinked and his older brother and commander was gone. 

He tried to shake the anger, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure if he’d kept Dean safe or made him more of a target, and that thought made his stomach flip-flop dangerously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! Whoa, things are getting interesting! Poor Sam, and what in the world was that between Raphael and Cas?!
> 
> Sorry there hasn’t been much Destiel recently—I’ve been working on this huge Sabriel series, and think that’s been bleeding over into this work too. I just love Sam and Gabe. But also, it’s a lot easier for me to imagine Sam and Gabe doing mundane/domestic things. Watching T.V., dating, etc. It’s really hard for me to picture what Cas and Dean might do as roommates, so I have a hard time putting that in. If anyone has suggestions, feel free to send them my way. 
> 
> As always thanks for reading and please comment or subscribe! The real fun’s about to come!


	32. Change in Plans

Sam didn’t sleep well that night. “Sleep well” was a bit of an understatement, though. “Tossed and turned from nightmarish memories,” was more accurate. He went through the trove of new (old?) memories from his forgotten childhood, but instead of offering comfort they only seemed to taunt him. _Here’s what you had until you destroyed it all._

He remembered Mary, John, Ellen, and Bobby sitting outside of a little BBQ shack. As the parents talked, he and Dean laughed and smacked each other over stolen French fries. 

His mother was beautiful, and sweet, but also stern and careful. John—he was comforting when Sam scraped a knee, he was willing to sleep in Sam’s room during a nasty thunderstorm. 

It was so hard to reconcile that as the same man who told Sam to ‘suck it up’ when he had nightmares or almost broke an arm in a nasty fall. 

How different would life be right now if that Rakshasa hadn’t entered it? Would Sam and Dean even be in the DWMA right now? Or would they be normal kids going to a normal high school and having normal problems?

The tone of the dreams changed suddenly. The memory of his mother singing “Hey Jude” to him flickered and faded out and replaced by a man—it was as if someone had changed the channel when he wasn’t looking. 

_The man is tied up in a chair. One side of his face is bruised; there’s a gash above his eye that’s leaking blood down his face, staining his dress shirt. He looks angry. “I don’t know anything!”_

_“Lying is only going to get you on my bad side, you know,” says a smooth, Irish accent. “Let’s try this again. I know what Lilith’s up too. Where are the kishin-eggs?”_

_“I don’t know anything about keychains!” The man’s eyes become black, and he gnashes his teeth._

_Crowley sighs in irritation. “I’m shocked at your level of rapier wit. I know you’re one of her higher-level cronies.” The black-clad Irishman started circling the demon slowly. “I know what she’s up too—using kishin-eggs to create an army to bring against me. I already know all that. I just need to know a location.”_

_The demon snarled. “Lilith is a visionary! She will bring the dawn of a new era. You don’t scare me.”_

_Crowley pushes a table forward, and it’s covered with gleaming surgical tools. “Too bad. I know for a fact that it was Alastair that broke you on the rack. Remember those good ol’ days?”_

_The demon shuddered and a hint of fear crossed its black eyes as it looked at the tools._

_“Well, who do you think trained him?” Crowley asks smoothly._

_“I don’t know anything! I don’t know, I don’t—NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”---_

~*~

Sam sat up so fast he almost fell off the couch. His breath was labored; his forehead and back were soaked in sweat. The nightmare was so vivid he could almost hear the demon’s panicked scream rattle his very bones. A painful migraine washed over him, only lessoning after several minutes. 

“What the hell was that?” he asked himself. Such a vivid dream…almost like he’d been watching it happen…

Sam’s mind spun wildly, as if being run on by a caffeinated hamster. The dream was solid—even as he continued to wake up it wasn’t fading into half-remembered ideas and vague notions. Crowley and the demon were still clear in his mind’s eye. Sam was starting to wonder if it was real. Though Sam had never seen one before, he knew from Dean’s journal that demons (while possessing a person) sometimes flashed black eyes.

Why would Sam dream about a demon, unless it was somehow real?

How? _Maybe the blood shows me what Crowley’s up to?_

If that was the case, then he’d been given a huge piece of the puzzle surrounding Crowley, Lilith, and the kishin-egg disappearances. They needed to get back to the Academy; Sam had a feeling things were going to hit the fan.

~*~

“Dean, Dean! Wake up guys, come on.”

“Sam, if you aren’t on fire, I’m going to kill you,” Dean said gruffly from under the blanket. A head of dark spiky hair peeked out, but the surly blue orbs caught Sam off guard. 

“C-Cas? Where’s Dean?” _And why are you asleep in his bed…? Oh, God, I hope I didn’t walk in on aynthing--!_

A groan sounded from the opposite side of the bed and Dean sat up from the floor, hand to his head. “Sam, what the hell, man?” His hair looked like he’d stuck a finger in an outlet, and he kept blinking in confusion.

“Um…I think we should head back to the Academy today,” Sam said, managing to hide his relief. 

“…That asinine observation couldn’t wait until a more acceptable hour? Like noon?” Cas asked. His voice was unnaturally gruff anyways, but first thing in the morning he sounded like an 80-year-old man who smoked two packs a day for most of his life.

Grumpy Cas was _scary._

Dean blinked at Cas, eyebrows up in surprise. “Geez, did you wake up on the wrong side of my bed or what?”

Sam barked out a laugh. 

“Oh, dammit Sammy I didn’t mean it like that!” 

“Cat’s outta the bag now, Dean.”

Dean flopped backwards onto his back with a thud. His arm, held up in the air, flipped Sam the bird. 

“Just didn’t sleep well,” Cas said simply. 

“And you didn’t have to sleep on the floor,” Dean’s muffled voice complained. “What crawled up your ass, Sammy? We’ve got a few more days of vay-cay, ya know.”

“I think I’ve figured out what’s happening. The disappearances of the kishin-eggs, the attack at Night Vale, it’s all connected! At least, I think so.”

Dean let out a groan and sat back up, glaring at him. “ _What_ , bookworm? What is so important you won’t let us—“

“I think we’re on the eve of a war between the two most powerful demons in Hell, and I think they’ve been killing or kidnapping the kishin-eggs to use as cannon fodder,” Sam said in one breathless sentence. 

Several seconds of silence followed. Dean blinked. Cas sat up and arched an eyebrow at him. Now that it was out in the open, he suddenly felt like a complete idiot. And how in the hell was he supposed to explain this knowledge? _I got it from a psychic dream I think I had because I started drinking demon blood?_

“Explain,” Cas commanded. The sleep was gone from his face and his expression was grim. 

Sam thought quickly. “Uh…Well, ever since Halloween, I’ve been trying to figure out who was behind that attack. Since Samhein was a demon, I figured the woman in white was, too.”

“She was certainly bitchy enough,” Dean agreed. “So, get a name?”

“Well, I think so. See, there’s only two demons in Hell that are powerful enough to let Samhein loose. I’m pretty sure the woman in white is the demon Lilith. She’s known at the Queen of the Crossroads—anyone who makes a deal with a demon becomes Lilith’s property.”

“And this other demon?” Cas asked. 

“He’s the current King of Hell. He’s been ruling Hell for the past several hundred years, and the last recorded sighing of Samhein is about that long ago, so I’m thinking he locked Samhein in the Pitt in the first place. But get this— _his name is Crowley_.” 

“ _The guy with the dog_?” Dean exclaimed. “No, no way, you’re telling me that asshole with the accent was the freakin’ _Devil_?”

“The Devil refers to the fallen archangel Lucifer,” Cas clarified. “He’s not a demon.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that makes this so much easier to deal with,” Dean said. “But, he was a Meister. We saw him take out those kishin-eggs, he can’t be a demon.”

“If a Meister went to Hell at some point, Crowley could’ve bound that soul to a loyal hellhound,” Sam suggested. “We have no idea what he can really do.”

“Sam…” Dean sighed. “Dude, look. I get that you’re all smart and shit, but this is pretty far-fetched, don’t cha think? You’re basing this whole idea off of circumcision evidence.”

Sam snickered. “I think you meant ‘circumstantial,’ Dean.” 

Dean waved it away. “Whatever.”

“Actually…” Cas said, tapping his chin. “Kishin-eggs started disappearing before the attack of Night Vale, and we’ve all agreed it was a demonstration of power. They were the only outsiders to appear, and Lilith did show that she could use Samhein to resurrect kishin-eggs to do her bidding. What’s to say that’s not happening on a larger scale? If she’s kidnapping kishin-eggs or killing them for Samhein to resurrect later…”

“Lilith could have an army she could summon at a moment’s notice,” Sam finished.

“So, she plans on killing Crowley with irony. Nice touch, but why the rush to get back to school?” Dean said. 

Castiel fixed his stare on Dean. “What if she attacks the DWMA with her army? With her taking the eggs from us, that means we’ve been getting weaker all this time. We’d be easy pickings.”

“Then we’ll go 300 on their asses and kill ‘em all. 300 dudes held off a hundred thousand other dudes, right? And since I’m the oldest and the best looking, that makes me Leonidas,” Dean said with a smirk.

“The Spartans died at Thermopylae after holding the pass for 3 days,” Sam interjected. 

Dean’s face fell. “…Oh, right. Dammit.”

“A civil war between the two most powerful factions in Hell, and they’re using kishin-eggs as cannon fodder,” Cas mumbled, shaking his head. “We should warn Death as soon as we get back.”

“Actually…I’m not thinking that’s a good idea,” Dean suggested. 

“Why not?” Cas asked. Sam, though agreeing internally, nodded. “Yeah, why not?”

Dean waved it away. “Look, we can’t just cry wolf based on some names you plucked from some old dusty books—“

“Actually, I got them from a very reliable website. Hellhoundslair.com. Spangler and Zeddmore, the two guys who run it, are paranormal experts,” Sam said. They blinked at him. He blinked back. “What?”

“—Sam, if you weren’t related I’d already have let Cas strangle you. Look, I believe you, we just gotta get more proof before showing Death and Scythe.” 

“We head back, get proof, stop the demon’s slap fight, everything goes back to normal,” Sam countered. 

“We must move quickly,” Cas said quietly, somberly. “If this truly is a civil war from Hell, the world could possibly hang in the balance.”

“So…no pressure,” Dean tried to joke, but it fell on flat ears as they realized that this could be the beginning of a very, very bad thing, and they were the only ones who could see the bullet coming before it hit.

No pressure indeed.

~*~

“You’re leaving already?” Ellen asked, surprised when the three teenagers walked into the kitchen fully dressed, each with their backpack flung over their shoulders. “I thought you would stay at least another few days….”

“No! Dean, don’t leave yet!” Jo said loudly, flying up from her seat at the table and flinging her arms around his waist in a surprisingly powerful hug for a 10-year-old girl. 

“I’ve got to, Jo,” Dean said, kneeling down and giving her a fierce hug back. “I’m sorry Baby Girl.”

“Duty calls?” Bobby asked, leaning against the counter. 

Sam, Dean, and Cas all shared a look. “Something’s up,” Sam said with a sigh. “We’re hoping to get back to school and sort some stuff out.”

Ellen and Bobby looked at each other. “Neither rain nor sleet nor snow,” Bobby said with a grumble. “Always got our work to do. So, Sam, how’re you feeling?”

“You mean other than the fact that my brain feels like it was just poured out of a blender? Pretty peachy,” Sam said with a grimace. 

“Sarcasm, always a good sign,” Dean said with a grin. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Ellen asked. 

“Yeah just…can we please drop it?” Sam asked a little harshly. “I just…I really don’t want to talk about yesterday.” He said more quietly.

The parents gave each other a look. “Sure Sam,” Bobby said. “I think a clean slate would do everyone some good.”

They left thing alone as everyone said their good-byes, bittersweet hugs and handshakes shared all around. Ellen made them sandwiches for the road while Bobby lectured Dean on last minute car maintenance for the old Chevy. 

Jo hadn’t said a word; she was mostly stewing in the corner, but just before they left she pulled on Castiel’s hand. He leaned down enough for her to whisper in his ear: “Watch out for the knuckleheads?”

“I promise,” Cas said sincerely. 

“Your mother would be proud of you, Sam,” Ellen said as she gave Sam another hug before walking out the door. “If you ever need anything, we’re just a phone call away.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, but his stomach rolled with guilt at the words. His head was still a jumbled mess of memories and emotions; the long trip back would give him time to sort things out. At least he knew he wasn’t alone anymore, and that gave him a sense of peace.

~*~

“Holy crap, guys, you _sure_?” Ruby asked.

Sam rubbed his neck. “Well, no, that’s the reason for the secrecy. I don’t want Death thinking I’m a crazy conspiracy nut.”

“This is kind of a big deal, Sam. A literal civil war from Hell, and you’re worried about your _reputation_?” Meg scoffed.

“Well, you wouldn’t understand the importance of _that_ , would you?” Kali said. 

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“Ladies, ladies!” Gabriel said, coming between them. The seven of them were in Kali and Gabriel’s apartment. Most of the teenagers were road-weary and tired—tempers were high. “Sorry Meg, New York refilled her snobby meter,” he said hurriedly. There was a thump under the coffee table in front of the couch—Kali’s eyes grew wide and she cut them sharply at her partner, utter shock on her face. 

“Guys, can we focus for two seconds here?” Dean snapped. Everyone paused and turned to see him with a hand to his temple. “Look, Sam’s not saying that’s what’s going on, he’s just saying that’s what _could_ be going on. Basically we’re just saying to keep your eyes open to anything weird.”

“And look for any evidence proving or disproving Sam’s theory,” Kali said. 

“That would be helpful,” Castiel said. 

“Sounds good,” Meg said, before yawning loudly. “Now, can we go home now? Riding a bike all day is murder on the back. I need sleep, and I need it _now_.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long few days,” Dean agreed with a giant yawn. “C’mon Cas.”

The two boys headed out, followed closely by Meg, Ruby, and Sam. 

“Hey, Sam, wait a second,” Gabriel said, catching him before he left the apartment. Sam waved the girls on. Kali disappeared into her bedroom, leaving them alone.

“First of all, Jesus! You grew like four inches while you were gone! You need that knock that off, Sam,” Gabriel teased him. 

Sam tried not to blush. “I’ll lay off the MiracleGro. You believe me, don’t you?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t think you’d make something like this up, Samsquatch. It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that I’m hoping you’re _way_ wrong. Night Vale…I know it probably didn’t faze you guys, but…I still have some sleep issues from it.”

“Ruby won’t ever admit it, but she still freaks out if she has to go up stairs,” Sam admitted. 

“Um, I actually have something for you…” Gabriel said. Managing not to blush or look bashful, he presented a small box to the meister. 

“I…thanks Gabe. You didn’t have to do that.” Sam’s face fell. “I don’t have anything for you.”

Gabriel waved it away. “I like to give people what I think they need. Hope you like it!”

Sam opened the box and a look of curious delight spread over his face. He picked up the simple cord and stared at the golden pendent that hung from it. “Wow…this is so cool! Thanks Gabe!” He slipped it over his head, and it lay on his chest, almost warm to the touch. 

“You’re welcome Samsquatch! I know you like old stuff. It’s supposed to be a protective amulet,” Gabriel said, smiling. Sam draped an arm around him for a hug. 

“Very neat. I’ll have to do some research to see when and where it’s from—“

“Research at your own place, bookworm, I need my beauty sleep” Gabriel said, pushing his buddy towards the door. 

“Why? It hasn’t done anything for you so far,” Sam joked, and dodged the fist playfully swung his way. With a laugh Sam headed out the door, rubbing his fingers over the pendent and already mumbling to himself what it could possibly be.

Once the door was closed Gabriel looked up to see Kali peeking around the corner at him. He made a thumbs-up and smiled, and she gave one back in return.

~*~

Dean let out a sigh and steeled himself. _Come on, Dean, it’s not that bad_ , he told himself sternly. 

The bed above him creaked, and Castiel looked down over the railing at him. “Dean? Are you alright? You seem tense,” the weapon said simply. 

“Nope, nope, all good done here,” Dean said quickly. “Just, uh…got a little gas.” _God, really? That’s my brilliant excuse? Just kill me now…._

Castiel arched and eyebrow but disappeared for a few seconds. He reappeared with his blanket and his pillow in his hands as he climbed down. “If that’s the case, I’d rather sleep on the couch.”

“Cas, get back in your damn bed,” Dean growled before turning over so he didn’t have to look at his roommate. His roommate who looked incredibly hot for someone ready to pass out from a 24 hour road trip, and he hadn’t even driven! 

Cas grumbled but climbed back into his own bunk. He settled down, and within moments Dean could hear his partner’s even breathing above him. He began to relax, but only slightly. Dammit, this crush thing was screwing everything up. 

He started getting tongue-tied when Cas fixed his eyes on him, so he’d sounded like a gibbering idiot more so than usual. He let Cas listen to his music first, and had even bought a salad for the guy. But for the most part he’d been able to ignore it—until they got to the apartment. When Cas walked out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist and hair wet from the shower, Dean had shoved the laptop on his lap and prayed Cas didn’t question why it was sitting a little cock-eyed (no pun intended).

 _This sucks_ , Dean thought to himself. How was a guy supposed to ignore his crush until it went away when his roommate just walked around half naked? 

Dean made up his mind. He was going to stoutly ignore these feelings. Nothing was there, he was just going through a little biological phase, yep. _After a while I’ll go back to normal and everything will be fine. Just gotta keep Cas in the dark until then._

The theory sounded mighty fine and all, but the execution was going to be a real pain.

~*~

“Maybe it’s Babylonian or Hindu in nature…” Sam murmured to himself. He was sitting in their living room alone, the girls having pretty much passed out as soon as they got to their beds. In his left hand was the pendent, and in the right he slide past pictures of amulets he’d googled. So far, nothing matched the golden horned pendent Gabriel had given him. There was this sense of comforting warmth coming from it, and he found himself smiling at it again. 

How did he get so lucky to have such a good friend?

“Lovely. A trinket from an admirer, perhaps?” Crowley said, suddenly standing in front of Sam. The boy let out a startled yelp and leapt off the side of the couch away from the demon. Crowley made no move to stop him. 

“Meg, Ruby, stay back!” Sam barked, but he didn’t hear any sort of movement coming from the girls’ room. Even as tired as they were, they should’ve reacted at least a little! 

“They won’t be bothering us, Mooseling. You and I have a private meeting scheduled,” Crowley said. He looked around the apartment but didn’t seem impressed by what he saw. 

“What are you doing here?” Sam hissed.

“Was in the neighborhood, thought I’d say hello,” Crowley said easily. He flicked his wrist, and Sam immediately fell to the floor with a groan as pain ripped through his stomach, making him gasp and curl in on himself. 

“Stop-stop!” Sam begged, and the pain was gone with another flick of the demon’s wrist. “What the hell?” he snarled. 

“The demon blood in your veins has but one master Sam, and it’s not you,” Crowley said. He pulled his hand out of his overcoat pocket and curled him fingers into claws. Sam let out a yelp. A red-hot knife was twisting his insides around; it was enough to make him almost vomit. 

Just as suddenly as it was there, it was gone, and Crowley was crouching next to him. “We had a deal, Sam,” the Demon King said quietly. “A very good deal considering the usual terms deals come with, and you really thought you could send me on a while goose chase with no repercussions? Two pissed off ghosts and a serial killer I’d already had pegged for the rack are not kishin-eggs.”

Sam mentally cursed himself. He thought he’d managed to find pretty concrete kishin-egg sightings in the newspapers and online. Apparently he hadn’t been as clever as he thought. He could still feel the last vestiges of pain in his midriff. 

“I was away from the Academy, I was trying to keep my end of the deal!” he said.

“Oh, then I’m sorry, my mistake.” Crowley popped Sam across the back of the head. “What, do you think I should give you a cookie for _trying_? You don’t get a ribbon for participation, this is Hell! You break the deal, you go downstairs.”

Crowley stood up and grabbed Sam by the front of the shirt, easily lifting the teenager to his feet and then completely off the floor by one hand. 

“No! Let me go!” Sam yelped, trying to squirm away from the demon’s death grip. 

“Sam, you seem to have trouble remembering you’re the bottom in this relationship.”

Another pain racked his stomach, but he didn’t stop moving. He managed to kick the demon in the stomach, but it was like kicking concrete. Crowley just rolled his eyes. 

_“Exorcizamus te—“_ Sam started to shout. 

_“Omnis immundus spiritus,”_ Crowley finished, smirking. “Want me to do the rest of it?”

The blood drained out of Sam’s face. “Shit,” was all the kid could say when the only ace in the whole he had wasn’t so much of an ace anymore. 

“I’ve got to say, your hutzpah is refreshing,” Crowley said conversationally. “Most people in your position would be begging or pissing themselves.” 

“If you’re gonna drag to Hell, why don’t you do it already?” Sam said with sudden daring. He shot the demon a hate-filled glare. 

Crowley’s eyebrows arched up, and he let out a surprised snort. “Well, you certainly have a big, shiny pair of danglies, don’t you?” He let go suddenly and Sam collapsed into an undignified heap on the floor. 

“You know, I can’t help but find myself liking your spunk, Tiny. So, here’s my thinking on the matter. You screw up one more time, try to jerk the wool over my eyes just once, and you’ll be dragged to Hell and tortured with the most torturous torture that has ever existed in the history of torture.” The king’s face was red as he roared his threat.

“If that’s not enough of an incentive for you, well…I’d hate to see anything happen to those cute girls in the other room, or that little flock of sheep you’ve managed to ingratiate yourself into. What’s that little girl’s name….Jo?”

“Don’t you dare go near them!” Sam snapped with venom. 

“Hit a nerve, did I? Maybe that’s the incentive you needed to get your ass in gear. Now do you get the picture?” 

“I—I—yeah, I got the picture,” Sam stuttered, unable to stop his hands from shaking or his words from sounding slurred. The fear and adrenaline coursing through his body was making it impossible to think clearly. 

“Until later, darling,” the demon said with a dangerous smile, and the King of Hell was gone. 

His insides still hurt, but there was no physical mark left on him. He let out a groan and rubbed his sore stomach; he lay on the cold tile floor for a moment, trying to calm down his pounding heart, when he heard someone walk up to him. 

“Sam? What’re you doing?” Ruby asked sleepily. She was blinking slowly, still trying to wake up. “You were groaning—what’s wrong?”

“I—nothing, my stomach cramped really bad, that’s all,” Sam lied. 

Ruby blinked at him, clearly annoyed. “What a wimp. Come on, ya big baby,” she said, offering him a hand up. He got to his feet, and Ruby shook her head at him. “Go to bed, Supernerd,” she chastised him. 

Once he promised he would, she returned to her warm bed and its pile of blankets. He grabbed his backpack from next to the couch and locked himself in the bathroom. Sam curled up against the tub and rocked a little. His head still hurt, his stomach was rolling around making him nauseous.

He sat there for a few moments, flashes of old memories and Crowley’s taunting voice flickering through his mind like a horrible nightmare. He didn’t know what to do. His hand moved into his bag and he pulled out the vial. For the first time he felt true revulsion at what he was holding. This whole time he’d managed to forget what it actually was—blood. _Demon’s blood._

He held the vial for a few more moments, unsure what to do. Eventually he crawled to the toilet and uncorked it, ready to flush the poisonous blood down the toilet and bury the vial in the desert. No one would ever know. It was a dangerous concoction—Crowley had managed to torture him with barely a thought. And if he didn’t have the blood then he wouldn’t have to give kishin-eggs to Crowley anymore. He wouldn’t be a danger to Dean’s family.

Sam gritted his teeth, his fist clenched around the vial. _No, I can’t stop. Not yet!_

He’d managed to bring the Krampus to its knees just using his own hands. He was getting faster, he was getting stronger, bigger, just too slowly. Crowley still held power over him because Sam wasn’t proving strong enough to be the blood’s master. He had to prove it, to himself, to the demon king. 

Sam Winchester was _nobody’s_ bitch. 

Crowley had told him only a drop a day—now it was obvious the king had told him that to keep him on a leash. He needed more, to steady himself, to make himself better, stronger, more powerful. So powerful even Crowley couldn’t hurt him. 

Sam tipped his head back and swallowed down the entire vial’s contents in two swift swallows. It tasted terrible, like liquid soot, and he fought the urge to cough and sputter. Eventually there was nothing left in the vial and he stood unsteadily. He looked at himself in the mirror, and noticed a little trickle of blood leak from the corner of his mouth. 

His head didn’t hurt anymore, and his stomach rolled around but he ignored it. Because there was this sense of…electricity humming in his bones. He felt renewed, powerful. It was a wonderful feeling. He looked at the image of his bloody mouth and dark eyes and grinned. 

He wasn’t going to be held back anymore, not by anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, you may notice some changes in the past chapters happen soon. I’m going to go back and trim down/edit the earlier stuff. I’m also going to condense some chapters down because the earlier ones are really short while the recent ones have been way long. I didn’t realize this fic would be so long! 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me on this long and winding journey!


	33. Crazy Train!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head, things fall apart--all aboard the Crazy Train!

The gym was empty except for the freshmen class gathered in front of a sparring ring. Sid stood next to the mats and grinned at their curious faces. Hands clasped behind his back, he paced before them. 

“The goal for today’s training is as simple as it gets here at the DWMA: defeat your opponent. I’ll be drawing random names for partners. No weapon or meister abilities are allowed—just good ol’ fashioned fists and feet.” 

His weapon partner, the school nurse Nadia, was on hand in case anyone got seriously injured. Dreadlocks, a gauze bandage around her middle, and her cargo pants were covered by her nurse’s coat. 

She wasn’t one for talking much as she just nodded at them once. Sid’s hand fished around in a bowl full of slips of paper she held. He grabbed two and read them aloud. “First up: Dean and Gabriel.” 

“Oh crap,” Gabriel was heard to moan before trudging up to the center mat where Dean met him. “Hiya chucklehead,” he said with false cheer. 

“Hey yourself, short stack,” Dean quipped. He was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, boxing-style. “You looking forward to getting your butt whupped?”

“You don’t scare me, Dean-o. I live with _Kali_ ,” Gabriel said with a haughty sneer. “Take your best shot!” 

_WHOOSH!_ Gabriel managed to dodge the punch through sheer instinct. “What the heck?!” 

Dean shrugged, cocky grin spreading over his face. “You asked for it!” 

The hunter/meister was fast and before Gabriel knew what had happened, he was on the ground. Dean’s arm was around his neck, putting just enough pressure on his windpipe to make him gasp.

Gabriel wasn’t like Cas or Dean or Sam. He didn’t exactly enjoy strenuous exercise routines—what was the point in doing push-ups and running until his legs felt like jelly if his job was to turn into a gun and shoot fire at people? 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t defend himself, though, when push came to shove.

With a surge of strength Gabriel rolled forward, flinging Dean through the air; he landed on his back with a thud, knocked the wind from him. Gabe scrambled backwards and Dean took a few extra seconds to get to his feet. 

“Come on, Humpty, haven’t got all day!” Dean said. 

Gabriel frowned. “Was that a _fat_ joke?” he demanded darkly. 

The dangerous glare that passed over Gabe’s face was so out-of-character that it caused Dean to pause. “Uh…no?” 

Gabe flew at him with speed he wasn’t expecting. He dodged one punch, then two, but Gabe managed an uppercut that knocked Dean back several steps. “Dude, I didn’t mean it like that!” He said, shaking his head, trying to reorient himself. 

The younger weapon was there, grabbed Dean’s shirt, and hoisted him over his hip onto the mat so hard that he bounced upon impact. Finishing off the move, Gabriel wrapped his legs around Dean’s outstretched arm, keeping Dean pinned to the ground. 

“Excellent usage of your low center of gravity, Gabriel,” Sid said loudly, signaling the end of the fight. “Dean, I think it’s obvious you need to pay more attention to your opponents and…talk less.”

There was snickering from the class but Dean just rolled his eyes as he got back to his feet. Gabriel was still glaring daggers at him. “Who got their butt whupped just now?” 

“Geez Gabe, didn’t realize you were the Incredible Hulk this whole time,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his head. 

Gabriel didn’t respond as they moved off the mat, worrying Dean for a moment. “Seriously, man, I didn’t mean—“

“Got it the first time, Dean,” Gabe snapped back quietly. He returned to Kali’s side, and Dean’s shoulders slumped. 

Several more matches took place, ending with comments from Sid and cheers from their classmates. Dean wasn’t really paying attention. 

Sid fished around in the bowl for two more slips. “Ah, this should be interesting. Kali and the Masters sisters, up on the mat.”

“Nothing like a little cat fight to lift the spirits,” Dean said, elbowing Gabriel in the ribs, trying to make him laugh. It was obvious he didn’t want to, but a little smirk did appear. 

“Alright Kali, let’s see what you’re made of,” Ruby said with a cocky grin. She and her sister stood on the mat with a casual aura of menace around them.

Kali’s eyebrow twitched with amusement, and she actually bowed at them. “At least with two of you it’ll make it interesting for me.”

Meg threw the first punch which Kali dodged easily. There was a grace to the girls’ movements but Meg and Ruby had power behind their kicks and swipes that Kali didn’t have. It was obvious that Kali’s fighting came from learned techniques—her teacher had probably been a hired private tutor. Meg and Ruby, on the other hand, had learned how to take a punch and keep hitting from the bar room brawls they’d witnessed (and participated in).

Ruby ducked a swipe and moved out of Kali’s range, allowing Meg to move in while Kali was open. The sisters worked together, Meg taking more hits and allowing Ruby to go for more vital areas—just like they worked in their weapon forms when Sam wielded them. 

Kali, however, was a strategist, and within a few moments she used the sisters’ two-headed approach against them. They worked well together, but they were still two people trying to attack one in a very small area. They began to trip over each other, almost hit each other instead of Kali. She used their momentum against each other, turning the tide of the overwhelming odds quickly into her favor. 

Realizing the trick, Meg changed tactic and tackled Kali to the ground, both landing in a clumsy heap. Kali flipped Meg over, pinned her to the ground. Kali didn’t even get to smirk at her obvious victory before she felt two fingers press against her back, right behind her heart. 

“And that’s where my blade would go, if you were a kishin-egg,” Ruby said triumphantly. 

“Excellent use of division of labor,” Sid said. “And Kali, good use of strategy. Taking on multiple opponents, and using them against each other, was clever.” 

Kali, breathing heavy, watched Ruby help Meg back up to her feet. “You have gotten a lot more ruthless in your fighting,” She commented. 

“Sam’s been drilling us on techniques relentlessly the past few weeks,” Meg said as they walked off the mats. There were some darker circles under the girls’ eyes that hadn’t been there before, Kali noticed. 

“Sam and Castiel, up on the mat,” Sid finally announced. 

“Kick his butt, Clarence!”

“Meg, you’re supposed to be rooting for our Meister!” 

“Show that chucklehead who’s boss!”

Cas certainly looked relaxed and ready. He took the same stance Dean had, bouncing on his toes, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. Dean almost felt sorry for Sam, for anyone who had to spar with him or Castiel. They were at the top of the sparring game amongst all their classmates. 

On the other hand, his cousin had had a growth spurt from hell the past few months, and it seemed he was getting close to six feet tall. (Dean wasn’t jealous that he suddenly had to look up at his younger cousin. Nope, not at all.) 

There was a bit of murmuring from the crowd. A smirk of pride grew on his face when he heard kids muttering bets to each other around him. The black girl with the kinky hair, Cassie Robinson, bet on Sam. Her partner, the doe-eyed bombshell Lisa, was betting on Castiel. He winked at both of them, and they both studiously ignored him in return. 

Cas had speed and fighting experience. Sam was taller, had a longer reach, but didn’t hold back his strength very well. This fight was going to be interesting, and everyone was curious to see who would be the victor.

Unlike the others, Cas didn’t waste time with smack-talk. He feinted forward, as if to tap Sam on the right cheek—instead he sailed past like a ghost when Sam tried to counter him. He caught Sam in the ribs with his elbow. The younger Winchester grunted in surprise and stumbled to the side. Sam whipped a fist around and just barely missed Cas’s head. 

Cas rolled across the mat to get away from Sam’s long arms. He kept low and kicked out his leg when Sam came gunning for him; he successfully swept Sam’s legs out from under, sending him tumbling to the mat with a thud. Sam got to his feet quickly, never taking his eyes off Castiel. They circled each other, waiting for the other to strike first. 

Sam ducked forward, but when Castiel tried to dodge to the side Sam revealed the feint. He successfully hit Cas on the forehead. He stumbled back several steps, but Sam didn’t let up. Instead he threw another shot, catching Cas off guard twice in a row. He was moving so quick Dean missed the second move altogether. 

Dean’s grin turned into a frown when he felt the nervous energy start coursing through Cas’s wavelength when he got back to his feet. Sid let the fight continue since neither had been pinned, but Dean noticed that Cas’s eyes were narrowed, a grimace on his face. 

There was a glint in Sam’s hazel eyes that hadn’t been there before, a power that seemed to emanate from within the kid. He cracked his neck and knuckles.

Cas was back up, a bruise over his eye, but he didn’t stop. Arms up, fists ready, they circled again. Dean glanced at his friends, wondering if he was just overthinking things. He noticed them all watching with curious looks on their faces. 

They fought again, moving ridiculously fast as they fought. Dodging punches, side-stepping leg sweeps--sweat started to stain their gym shirts as the fight wore on. Cas wasn’t going in for hits anymore, he was staying out of Sam’s way. And Sam wasn’t pulling his punches like he should’ve been, he looked like he was really trying his best to take Castiel _out_. 

Dean glanced at Sid one more time. His gut coiled in on itself when he saw Cas scramble to the edge of the mat just to put some distance between him and Sam. _Something’s wrong. I gotta tell Sid something’s—_

The class let out a gasp as Sam suddenly had Cas in a headlock from behind. Instead of letting him go after a few seconds, Sam kept up the pressure and Cas started clawing at Sam’s arm in earnest, raw panic; his face started turning blue. There was a bloodthirsty smirk on Sam’s face. 

The bottom of Dean’s stomach dropped to his feet. 

“Move, move!” Dean snapped, shoving classmates out of the way as he bounded onto the mat and bulldozed into his cousin. Sam tumbled into his back with a grunt and Castiel fell coughing onto his hands and knees. Dean stood between them, eyes darting back and forth. Sam looked at him with rapidly blinking eyes. 

“What—what--?” Sam asked, shaking his head. He looked at Dean again, and he saw those hazel eyes didn’t look as murderous as they did just a few seconds before. He instead looked like he had just woken from an odd dream. 

“Easy, Tiger,” Dean said, arm extended out to keep Sam away from Castiel. From the horrified expression on Sam’s face, it was unnecessary. Sam was back, or whatever. “Sam?”

Sam looked at Cas’s hacking form, and a dismayed look crossed his face. “Oh, God, Cas, what did I--?”

Sid strode up onto the mat, grabbed Sam’s shirt, and lifted him to his feet as if he was an errant kitten. “What the heck was that, Winchester?” Sid demanded. 

Sam swayed on his feet, a hand to his temple. “I, uh, I don’t know. I guess I…got caught up in the moment?” He seemed to be asking himself more than anything.

Sid scowled at him. “I think that’s enough fight club for today,” he said loudly. “Class is dismissed.” 

Their classmates didn’t move, obviously curious to see what had happened. When Sid shot them a death glare, they almost ran to the changing rooms. Only his friends stayed behind, and all of them looked just as confused as Dean felt. 

“Cas, you alright?” Dean asked, helping his partner get to his feet. Castiel nodded, but Dean didn’t miss the look of fear that flashed across his eyes. 

“I’m…. _cough_ ….I’m fine,” Cas sputtered as he straightened up, watching Sam warily. Nadia looked at his neck and forehead. 

“Nothing’s wrong a little rest won’t fix. Your throat might be sore for the night, though,” she said quietly. 

“Holy crap Sam, what made you wanna kill Cas?” Ruby asked. 

“I—I wasn’t! I just…” Sam ducked his head, unable to look at anyone. “I’m so sick of sitting here, of wasting our time here!” He said with sudden anger. “Am I the only one going stir-crazy here?” He absently scratched his arm.

Dean noticed there were half-healed scratches running up and down his forearms. They so faint he almost missed them. He’d never seen scratches like that before. 

“Sam, what’s going on with you?” Gabriel asked in concern. “You’re acting really twitchy.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, Gabriel?” Sam snapped. 

The smaller weapon glared daggers at him. Gabriel, looking hurt and pissed, walked off the mat with a huff. For once Kali followed his lead. 

“God, my head hurts,” Sam muttered. “Look, I’m sorry, Cas, I really am, I—“

“It was a momentary lapse in judgment,” Castiel said, acting like it was nothing-- a momentary inconvenience. Dean was the only one who had seen that look of panic, so he was the only one who knew just how scared Castiel had been. 

Sid was watching them carefully. “If no one’s been permanently maimed today, then get your butts dressed and outta here. And Winchester, no more funny business, got it?”

Sam nodded, head hanging low. He pushed his way past his friends, careful not to make eye-contact with them. Ruby and Meg followed, confusion written clearly on their faces.

Castiel cut his eyes at Dean. “His wavelength felt like it was all over the place.”

“Yeah, felt that too. Maybe the lack of hunting is getting to him,” Dean said. “Cas, you sure you’re okay?” He asked as they walked. 

Cas shot a look at Dean. “I’m fine. He barely touched me,” he said in a huff.

“Cas, you _freaked_ ,” Dean pointed out. 

Apparently that was the exact wrong thing to say, because Castiel whirled about and gave Dean a long, hard stare. “I’m an Angel Blade,” Castiel said harshly. “I’m not afraid of _anything_ Dean. Understand?”

Dean threw his hands up. “Geez, Cas, is this how you repay the guy that made sure you didn’t pass out in class?”

Cas’s eyes darkened and he stomped off to the locker room, leaving Dean bewildered and alone. “You’re welcome, asshat!” he yelled but his partner was already gone.

At least Cas was okay. Well, it seemed his pride had taken a hit, but he was otherwise safe. Dean could handle that. He couldn’t handle the idea of having to break a fight up between Sam and Cas. He couldn’t handle the idea of either Castiel or Sam being hurt on his watch, and he couldn’t handle the idea of having to pick a side. 

There weren’t any monsters running around and hurting people. That should’ve been a good thing. So why did it feel like his friends were falling apart because of it?

~*~

Meg and Ruby were waiting for Sam when he joined them after class. He looked odd, as if suffering from a combination of caffeine overload and too little sleep. Dark circles around his eyes, hair a little frizzy, and he seemed jittery all the time nowadays.

“Problems, boss?” Ruby asked as they fell into step with their Meister. He led the way out of the building since their classes were done for the day. 

Other students walked past them—those in the gym at the time whispered to each other as he passed. There was usually a group of students around the assignment board at all times, but today the board was actually empty. 

When Sam didn’t respond, Meg cleared her throat. “So, what’re we doing today?”

“Same thing we do every night, Pinky,” Sam retorted. “Train.”

Meg groaned. “Why? It’s all we’ve been doing for two weeks! We’re barely sleeping anymore, Sam! Geez, would it kill us to have a day off?”

“Probably,” Sam said. “We’re at a monster-hunting high school, remember?”

“Quite being a pansy, Sis!” Ruby said, sticking her tongue out at Meg. Despite her words, there were dark circles around her eyes, too. But, Ruby was a loyal weapon. She’d walk to Hell for Sam if he’d asked her, and not just because he was her Meister.

“Fat lotta good training’s gonna do us when we pass out on our next job!” Meg grumbled. 

“You two have harvested enough souls to start being able to materialize your secondary forms,” Sam said. “We have to keep going until you guys can do it! Gabe can do it already!” 

“And look at that, Kali isn’t running him into the ground doing it, either,” Meg pointed out.

Sam stopped and turned to face them, and immediately Meg drew herself up. He looked mad enough to start throwing punches, and Meg narrowed her eyes. 

“I’m tired of everyone second-guessing me,” he growled. “And now my own partners can’t get on board? Fine, whatever. You don’t have to train tonight, Meg. Hell, you don’t have to train with us ever again if you want!”

“Screw you, Sam. When the hell did you become an insufferable prick?” Meg spat back. “Fine, I’ll take tonight off, and let you cool down before you do something really stupid.”

“Fine!” 

“Fine!” 

Ruby watched as her meister stomped off in one direction, and her pissed-off sister went the other. “Dammit, guys! Guys?...Sam, wait up!” She shook her head at her sister one more time before following Sam.

~*~

Dean was sitting on the couch with the laptop on his lap when he noticed movement from the bedroom. He looked up in time to see Castiel walk out. He was dressed in his nicest set of clothes (navy blue two-piece) with a white shirt and his (and Dean’s) favorite blue silk tie. His tan overcoat was also on, and one hand ran through his hair, spiking it. 

He looked up at Dean, who was looking quite confused. “What’s the occasion?” Dean asked. 

Castiel brushed imaginary dirt from his coat. Dean knew it was imaginary because Castiel was a fastidious cleaner, like a cat. The coat, for example, looked brand-new, but Dean couldn’t count on both hands how many times Cas had been chucked in the mud while wearing it. 

“Meg apparently had a falling out with Sam. She asked if I wanted to meet her at the pizza parlor downtown until she ‘no longer wanted to strangle his scrawny neck.’”

“Wow, Sammy’s makin’ friends left and right today, huh?” Dean joked. Then Castiel’s words clicked in his mind, and his smile turned into a frown. “Wait, wait. Biker babe asked you out on a _date_?”

Castiel looked away, just missing the horrified expression on Dean’s face. He caught the sight of Dean’s mouth hanging-open, though. “It’s not a date,” Castiel stated. “Just eating dinner with a friend.”

“Oh yeah? Then why the awfully nice get-up?” Dean managed to ask. His stomach was rolling; he felt beads of sweat roll down his neck and back. 

“It seemed polite to not arrive smelling of sweat,” Cas retorted. 

“But you smell pretty good. For a guy. Uh, I mean….you don’t stink,” Dean tried not to blush. Thank God Cas was clueless; no one else would simply accept Dean’s odd rambling as just odd.

“Thank you Dean. I’ll…um…do you want me to bring anything back?” 

“No, I’m good. Just…have fun, I guess,” Dean said. He had to close his eyes for several seconds and just breathe. _It’s not that big a deal_ , he told himself. _I’m not jealous or anything!_

If that was true, then why did it still hurt so badly?

Cas was now starting to look panicked. “Dean? I’m sure Meg didn’t invite you only because Sam is your cousin, and you’re very protective of him.”

“I’m not _that_ protective,” Dean retorted. 

“Your cheeks are flushed. Are you feeling ill, Dean?” 

“No! I’m fine,” Dean said. He thought he sounded rather calm and nonchalant. _Focus on something else, **anything** else…_ “Um…look, you just need to…here, let me fix this…”

Dean got up and walked over towards Cas before he realized what he was doing. His hands were suddenly on Castiel’s blue tie, the silk sliding over his fingertips. No matter how much Castiel tried, the tie would never sit straight. They were only a foot away from each other; with those hawk-like blue eyes staring at him so intently, Dean figured Cas could see the terrible images flashing through his mind. _It would be so easy to kiss him right now…._

Dean managed to pull back and put his hands on his hips, inspecting the weapon. He tilted his head to the side, then shook it. “Nah, never mind. Lose the tie, Cas.”

Cas nodded and pulled the tie free with one quick jerk. Without it, he looked a lot less stern and lot more fun. 

“Unbutton the top two buttons,” Dean ordered with sudden inspiration. 

Cas turned to look at the time on Dean’s wrist watch but obediently did as was told. He missed the look of unbridled need that passed over his partner’s face. 

It felt like a one-sided strip tease to Dean, and he tried to ignore the rush of blood to his…little Dean. _Holy shit, what the hell is Cas doing here? He could make a killing as a model! Or a porn star…_ Dean had to actively concentrate on not drooling, but the sex hair, the eyes, the shirt…holy crap! 

Cas opened his hands and shrugged. “Am I acceptable now?” There wasn’t a hint of teasing—it was an honest question. To Dean, however, it was the most seductive thing he’d ever heard in his life.

“Yeah…you don’t look constipated anymore,” Dean managed to grin. “Go knock her dead, Tiger.” He said cheerfully. Just because he was slowly dying on the inside didn’t mean he couldn’t be a good wingman for his best friend. 

“It’s a pizza, Dean. Not a date,” Castiel reassured him, but he looked a little nervous anyway. Dean’s fretting had worried him. 

Dean shooed him out the door with a wave of his hands. The weapon strode to the door, gave Dean a final look (in which they shared a thumbs-up) and was gone. 

Dean lasted a full minute before he too rushed out of the apartment, making sure he closed the door as silently as possible on the way out. 

~*~

“Did you get dressed up for lil ol’ me, Cas?” Meg asked with a grin when he came up to her booth. 

Cas glanced down at himself and shrugged. “I thought covering myself in honey and bees might be frowned upon, so I decided to play it a safe,” he answered cheekily. 

“Sit down, you weirdo,” Meg said with a chuckle. Castiel’s sense of humor was certainly…unique. 

There was a strange tension present as soon as Cas slid into the booth across from her. He seemed to be having a hard time looking at her. He kept looking at his hands and actually twidled his thumbs as she placed an order with their waitress. 

The pizzeria was full of other students and adults from the city, so it was lively and loud. The smells wafting in from the kitchens made most people’s mouths water, but Cas barely noticed. 

“--I’m telling you, Cas, I was this close to kicking him were the sun don’t shine,” Meg growled. “Hello, earth to Cas, you there?”

“Yes, sorry,” Cas said, breaking his reverie. “Sorry Sam was being difficult.”

“Difficult? He’s been a real jerk ever since you guys came back!”

Cas sighed. “Perhaps I can say something to him.”

“Knock yourself out,” she said flippantly. “He seems to think that Ruby and I should already be figuring out our second forms.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Your second forms? I thought those didn’t manifest until later, closer to the 99 soul threshold.”

“So did I, but apparently Brainiac things we should be ahead of that curve. But Ruby and I only have 45 souls each! But since Gabe could do it—“

“You should be able to follow suit,” Cas finished. 

Meg flipped her hair over her shoulder and sighed. “Can you?”

Cas shook his head. “No. But, as I’ve been told, angel blades manifest our second forms differently.”

“Maybe I’ll steal that excuse and shove it down his throat,” she joked. Cas seemed distracted, and it was starting to annoy her. “Hey, what’s up with you? You seem awkward as all hell.”

He was spared from answering since the waitress returned with two glasses of water and a basket of fresh French fries. He grabbed the glass and began downing it immediately, eyes darting all over. 

She looked at the fries and sighed before grabbing some to munch on. “Cas, did you and Dean get into an argument?”

“No, not at all,” Cas said, putting down the empty glass. “Just, uh…he mentioned something.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes, um…Meg? Areweonadate?” Cas asked in a single breath.

She almost choked on a fry. 

~*~

He’d managed to grab a booth across the restaurant, and so far no one had realized he was there. He’d shooed the waiter away twice already, and was pretty sure he’d caught muttered cursing under the guy’s breath, but he didn’t care. He kept the menu up in front of him though he had no intention of ordering. He couldn’t hear them, though, but so far it didn’t look like anything was—

“Hey, dingus, Meg and Cas are sitting over there,” Gabriel said, suddenly standing right next to him. The weapon pointed towards the table across the pizza parlor, startling Dean.

“Gabe! Sit down, you’ll blow my cover!” Dean grabbed his arm and made him sit on the other side of the table. “What are you doing here?”

Gabriel frowned at him, and held up a plastic bag with take-out containers. “Kali likes buffalo wings when she’s pissed,” he said sourly. “She doesn’t like to lose. And I don’t like to be called fat,” he added with venom.

“I wasn’t saying that! I was just saying that…you know…after I knocked you down you’d be so broken no one could fix you,” Dean said, trying to placate the weapon while keeping an eye on the others. 

Gabriel’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. He put the bag of food down on the seat next to him. “You’re a _special_ kind of special, you know that right?”

“Duly noted,” Dean said, distracted. 

Gabriel looked at them, then at Dean. “Wait a second. Are you spying on them?”

Dean glared at him. “No! I just happened to be here at the same time as them.”

The weapon snickered. “Wow, you don’t take rejection well, huh?”

“What rejection? There’s nothing between me and Cas to reject,” Dean countered. He saw the light bulb come on in Gabriel’s eyes. His heart stopped beating for a second.

“I was talking about Meg sitting over there with Cas and not you, but _now_ the picture just got a whole lot clearer.”

The blood rushed out of Dean’s face so fast it was amazing he didn’t fall over. “Oh, no, no, that’s not what I meant at all!” He said in a panicked voice.

“You’ve got a crush on Ca~as, you’ve got a crush on Ca~as!” Gabriel teased in a sing-song way. 

“Keep your voice down, idjit!” Dean hissed across the table, praying no one around them heard the prankster. He wanted to crawl into the Chevelle’s trunk and never come out. Especially with that smug look gracing Gabriel’s face. 

“I knew it! Ha! This is too much, Dean!”

“What do you mean, you knew?” Dean hissed. 

Gabriel waggling his fingers in Castiel’s direction. “Come on, Dean. Even being blind and deaf, Helen Keller _herself_ would’ve been able to tell you have a thing for the quirky angel!”

Dean ran his hands over his face. “Gabe, you son of a—“

“Language, Dean! We’re in a public place,” Gabriel chided. “So, you decided to chaperone little Cassie and Meg’s date and…do what, exactly? Walk me through your plan, oh brilliant hunter, you.”

Dean slumped back in his seat. “I…dunno,” he admitted. Gabe had him by the short and curlys—what was the point in lying anymore? “I honestly hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

“They’re perfect sitting ducks over there, man! Come on, let’s have some fun with this!” Gabriel said. That mischievous twinkle was back in his amber eyes. 

“Doing what? We’re in a crowded pizza parlor.”

Gabriel smirked and held up his hand, as if to snap his fingers. “I’ve got some ideas.”

~*~

“Are we on a date?” Meg repeated once she was able to speak again. She reached for her glass of water. “Gosh, I dunno Cas, why don’t you tell—oh, God!” She took a sip of her drink and pulled back, disgust on her face. 

“Meg, what’s wrong?”

“God, this isn’t water! It tastes like fermented lemonade without any sugar,” she hissed. She put the cup back hastily and reached for the napkin dispenser next to her. She pulled out one napkin, but there was a tiny ping and suddenly there was a geyser of napkins spitting out of the metal dispenser. 

“Gah!” She yelped in surprise, and jumped back. Cas tried to cover the napkins with his hands but they flew skywards with incredible speed, almost breaking his hand. It began to snow white napkins throughout the pizzeria. Napkins got stuck to people’s food, hair, and clothing. There was sudden chaos as servers tried not to slip on the napkins on the floor while carrying trays of plates, drinks, and dishes. The air was filled with swearing and an orchestra of breaking ceramics. 

~*~

Dean’s jaw hung open in surprise, even as a rogue napkin fluttered down and landed on his head. He jerked it off and looked up at Gabriel. “How…wait a second…did you just you _do_ that?”

Gabriel snapped again and a bag of movie popcorn appeared in his hands. Literally appeared out of thin air. He grinned as he held it up. “Yep.”

“Holy crap, how?!”

“It’s a family thing,” Gabriel said around a mouthful of popcorn. “They’re called influences. My older brother can influence people into following his orders. My other brother has a silver tongue. I can influence reality. Not enough to do any real damage, mind you. Just enough to make things interesting.”

“Gabe…you’re an X-Men?!”

“I hate to call the grammar police, Dean, but I think you mean ‘X-Man’. You really need some remedial English, my country boy amigo,” he said with self-assuredness. 

~*~

Their server came up to help with the napkin eruption when she slipped on a napkin and almost hit her head on the edge of the table. Cas’s quick reflexes helped him catch her, but she still managed to hit the table just enough to knock over Meg’s drink. Lemony-smelling water splashed into both Meg and Castiel’s laps. Meg let out a colorful swear as she tried to dodge the water, and she ended up landing on her butt on the floor of the pizzeria. 

~*~

“Ah, man, Cas’s is gonna kill you! He’s gonna have to dry clean those pants…”

“Why would he kill me? _I_ didn’t do anything,” Gabriel said innocently. “And it’s not like you’re gonna tell anyone. A, who would believe you? And B, I’ll keep my lips sealed about your little crush as long as you do about me.”

Dean glared at Gabriel but he saw Meg get up and stomp out of the place, fury etched onto her face. Trailing after her, unsure, was Castiel. Dean partially wanted to laugh at the dark stain square on his lap, but he also wanted to deck Gabe, too. 

Dean darted out after them, but as he stood outside of the door he didn’t see anyone in sight. Left, right, he couldn’t see or hear them anywhere. “Dammit!” he growled. 

“Snooze you lose, huh, Dean?” Gabriel joked. He easily ducked the swing aimed at his head. “Wow, still can’t take a joke. Lighten up Winchester, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Keep talking Gabriel. Just remember— _I know how to get rid of dead bodies_ ,” Dean hissed. 

“And that’s my cue to go,” Gabriel said with false cheer. “See ya later, Winchester!” he said before heading off quickly down the sidewalk, Kali’s dinner in hand. 

Dean was left alone in front of the pizzeria, head spinning. Gabriel had powers, Sam was being a psychotic asshole, and now Cas had disappeared with Meg. 

Head hung in defeat; he started to head back to his apartment. Hunting kishin-eggs and demons was so much easier to deal with than this bullshit. 

~*~

Meg stomped down an alleyway a few blocks away and kicked a metal trash can so hard it flew halfway down the alley. 

“What the flying hell was that?!” She swore. She shot Cas a death glare.

“That dispenser was obviously defective,” he said. He looked down at himself and sighed. “Tonight has not been a good night.”

“No, no is hasn’t,” she agreed. She leaned back against a wall and crossed her arms over her chest. She let out a huge sigh. “Come on Cas.”

“I really need to change my pants,” he said, clearly pained at the idea of having to clean his suit again. 

“My place isn’t that far away. Besides, a gentlemen like you wouldn’t let a girl walk home all alone, would you Clarence?” Despite the horrible evening, she managed to make it sound flirty, and winked at him. 

Cas shook his head. “No, I suppose I won’t.” 

They walked for several blocks in silence. They kept to unlit sidewalks and went around populated areas. Cas buttoned up his overcoat to hide most of the water stain, though it was still cold against his inner thighs and groin. 

They got to Meg’s apartment and she poked her head inside cautiously. “Still not back,” she said with a shrug. “Come on in, Cas.” 

He came to stand awkwardly in the middle of their living room. “So…Ruby and Sam are still training?” 

“Yeah, guess so.” She came to stand in front of him. She canted her hips to the side and put her hands in her jacket pockets. “So, Cas. What do you think we were doing tonight?”

His eyes grew wide, and he looked almost ready to just out of the window across the room. “I…um…well...despite not actually eating dinner, the pattern would indicate we were…um, _cough_ on a date…right?” His cheeks flushed beautifully. 

“Maybe next time we can actually eat something,” Meg said with a chuckle. 

“Next time?” 

“Sure. You’re not a bad date, Cas,” she said with a grin. She took a step forward, getting close to him, looking at him carefully. It took everything he had to not step back. “A pretty decent one, in fact.”

“So…Dean was right,” Cas mumbled under his breath. “About this being a date.”

“Did that bug him?”

“He seemed…concerned,” Cas admitted. 

“Really…?” Meg seemed to think about that for a second, before grinning at him. “Then why don’t we give Dean something to really worry about?”

“What do you--?”

Without warning, Meg lips were pressed against his, freezing him with shock. 

All thought went out the window. He barely remembered to breath. All he knew was that her lips were soft against his, and that he had no idea how to respond.

Meg pulled back and looked at him. “How’s that for popping your kissing cherry?” She asked saucily. 

Cas didn’t speak. Instead his hand wrapped around her head and brought their lips together again. This time Cas was responding, which trilled Meg to no end. She nipped his lips, swiped her tongue over them, asking permission. 

There was a crackle of power, and a powerful shock passed through their lips. Both jumped back with a pained yelp. 

“What the hell was that?” Meg hissed. She held her fingers up to her lips and pulled them away, expecting blood, but felt a blister on the side of her lips. She gave him an accusing glare. 

“I…I don’t know…” he said, bewildered, touching his lips in confusion. “Did I do that?”

He looked at her again, lifted up his hand to pat her shoulder or help her, but she stepped back and away from him. There was a look of betrayal and fear on her lovely features. 

“I heard Angel and Demon Blades sometimes didn’t react well to each other but…seriously, Cas?” She spat. 

“I’m…I’m really sorry, Meg, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.” She never seen him look that upset before.

“I kissed you and you _shocked_ me. Too late for that, Cas.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he said. 

“Glad to know you weren’t leading me on, then,” she said bitterly. She waved towards the door. “Just…go home, Castiel. Please?”

He hated leaving her upset. He hated leaving with his mind a jumble of confused emotions and ideas. Want and fear and embarrassment and panic colored his thoughts. 

He just wanted to go home. He wanted to go home and go back to his books and his pajamas (Dean’s old clothes). Maybe Dean could help him understand what he did wrong. 

“Alright. I’ll—see you later, then,” he said awkwardly, before awkwardly backing out of the apartment until he was outside. She closed the door on his face. 

He stood there, unsure, and sighed. “Good job, Castiel,” he cursed himself, wiping away the stupid water gathering in his eyes. 

~*~

Castiel walked into his apartment and leaned back against the door with a depressed sigh. Dean poked his head out from the kitchen. “Hey Cas. Back early, aren’t you? How’d your non-date go?” If Cas had been paying attention, he probably would’ve noticed Dean’s chipper voice sounded very forced. 

“Horribly,” Cas admitted. “Everything went wrong.” 

Dean looked at him and tried not to snicker at his disheveled appearance. “Dude, what happened to your pants?”

“A clumsy waitress spilled water on me,” Cas said. He sounded really tired. 

“Murphy’s Law sucks, man,” Dean offered as a condolence. 

Cas shucked his coat and rubbed his brow. He went and changed from his suit to his pajamas, and hung his pants over the shower rod in the bathroom so they could dry. 

A delicious smell wafted through the air and hit Cas, causing his stomach to growl. He wandered into the kitchen and saw Dean was heating up a package of instant ramen in the microwave. He leaned against the counter and breathed deeply. 

“Is there another bowl of that?” Cas asked as he sat at the counter.

Dean’s eyebrows rose up in utter shock. He held up his bowl in question. “You want this? Didn’t you eat pizza?”

“Dinner was…never mind. I’d rather not talk about it.”

Dean looked at Cas suspiciously. “But…you’re sure? You don’t eat this stuff. It’s bad for your chi or whatever.”

“Blue eyes flashed at Dean. “I’m not in the mood for patronizing, Dean.”

“Alright, alright, knock yourself out.” Dean walked over to his partner and handed the bowl to him. “Bon appetit Cas.” 

“Thank you.” Cas watched Dean heat up another package for himself. Dean slid into the seat next to them, and they ate in silence. It wasn’t terribly good, but the food did help settle Castiel’s stomach. Except for the slurping of noodles, the silence helped soothe Cas’s mind.

“So, dinner didn’t go well?” Dean asked. 

“No, not at all.” 

There was a moment of silence. “Did you and Meg… _do_ anything?”

Cas thought for a moment, debating what to say. “…No. We didn’t even get a chance to eat anything because of a broken napkin holder.” 

“Oh,” He thought Dean sounded almost relieved. “Sorry tonight sucked.”

“Perhaps it was for the best,” Cas said, but his words sounded far away to his own ears. 

He was looking at Dean, really looking at him. His eyes wandered over Dean’s profile, his freckles, his dimples, his emerald eyes, his lips.

_I wonder if Dean’s lips would be just as soft…?_

Castiel shook his head. Meg’s pained face, her burned lip, flashed in his mind. _I’ll never do anything that could harm Dean._

His heart ached at the thought, but he made his resolution. If Castiel was good at one thing, it was keeping a promise. 

~*~

“Come on, Ruby, what was that?” Sam barked in annoyance. “It’s like you’re not even trying!”

_“What do you want me to do, exactly? Pull a magical-girl transformation sequence out of my butt?”_ Ruby’s voice snapped in his head. He could see her reflection in the blade of the knife. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was scowling darkly at him. 

With a groan, he tossed the knife into the air in front of him. There was a flash of light, and Ruby stood before him, dressed in her gray t-shirt and sweats. She was still scowling at him. 

“Yo, earth to Sam, maybe we should give up on this right now,” Ruby said, stifling a yawn. “I’m tired and I want food. This is obviously not getting us anywhere.”

“That’s because you’re not trying your hardest,” he said. 

Her eyes flashed angrily, and she stomped up to him until she was in his face. One hand on her hip and the other poking his chest. “Not trying my hardest? Excuse me, but who has been here the whole time except me? I’m doing everything I friggin’ can, jerk. Excuse me for not being able to pull a miracle out of a hat when you demand it. Face it, whatever stupid book you got this idea from was wrong.”

They stood glaring at each other for a minute. They were alone in a smaller, private gym; it was spartan except for the mats and a few mirrors around the room. Ruby had probably seen more of this room than her own bedroom in the past almost month. 

He ran a hand through his hair. _The blood should be giving them enough of a boost to transform! Why isn’t anything happening?!_ He let out a frustrated growl and scratched his arm absently. It felt like his bones were vibrating under his skin, and it was so _distracting_! 

“Sam, what’s up with you? I don’t think I’ve even seen you do homework in the past few weeks!” She said, legitimately worried. Her eyes softened in concern. “Just remember that if you sink, me and Meg go down with you. What’s up already?”

“I—I—“ The vibrating wouldn’t stop, his head wouldn’t stop hurting, and she was right there. He never really realized that Ruby was actually pretty. No, she was beautiful, gorgeous even! Holy crap how had he not noticed that before?

Before he knew what was happening, his lips were on hers. He was kissing his partner, and not only that, she was kissing back. Hard. His brain felt detached—he was watching something far away, like on a T.V. 

_Why am I kissing Ruby!?_ The only part of Sam that was left yelled out in concern. The rest of his demon-blood addled brain had shut down, and was simply riding the sensation of soft lips delivering hard nips. Their tongues fought for control of the kiss. They had been at each other’s throats for weeks, and now it was spilling over into this.

Sam broke apart when the pendent laying against his chest grew hot, almost burning the skin there. Ruby looked dazed, with her eyes dilated and her lips swollen. He pulled the necklace off his neck ( _Gabriel’s necklace, it was for protection…_ ) and stuffed it into his back pocket. 

“Holy….damn, Sam,” Ruby whispered in delight. “I think I can honestly say that was better than McDonald’s fries!” 

Sam grinned. His skin felt feverish, but the humming had died down. He wanted to kiss her again, make-out with her again. Push her on to the mats and keep kissing her. 

The last logical part of Sam’s brain felt sick, but he ignored it. He even managed to ignore the image of pained amber eyes that flickered there. 

Music filled the room, coming from Ruby’s pocket. She pulled out her phone and glared at it. “Not now, Sis!” she snapped at it. 

“Go ahead and answer,” Sam said. 

Ruby glared at him, but answered it with a curt. “What do you want, Sis?”

“Sorry to interrupt the party,” Meg’s voice said over the speaker, “But Lord Death just called the apartment. He says we have a case that we really need to get to, ASAP. So, wrap it up and let’s go.”

“Finally, something to do!” Sam said. “We’ll be there soon.” 

Ruby hung up and put the phone in her pocket. “So…now what?” It was obvious she wasn’t talking about the kishin-egg. 

Sam grinned. His heart was thumping with excitement. “Let’s table this discussion ‘til we get back. Until then, don’t say anything to her. I don’t want to get filleted alive while on the job.” 

Ruby nodded, her eyes gleaming with excitement, and saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain!”


	34. Author's Note-I'm Not Dead!

Author’s Note: I’m Not Dead!

 

Hello dear readers!

First let me apologize for my lack of updates. I really didn’t mean for this story (or any of my stories) to get away from me for this long! The past year has been a wild ride. One minute I was about to pack up and move in with my best friend several states away. The next I’m engaged and getting married a few months later! Plus a new, super busy and stressful job meant any time off I had was spent de-stressing. But that’s not the only reason I’ve been away from this story for so long.

When I first started the DWMA fic, it was supposed to be a fun, silly series about everyday interactions between its characters. As the story went on, I found myself creatively trapped. I have a terrible tick about making stories follow pre-established canon, which is very stifling. I can’t think myself of this corner I’ve trapped myself in with this whole Crowley/Lilith civil war thing. If you’ve seen the show, you’re probably had your fill of the two. So I’ve been racking my brains, trying to come up with something a little more original, and easier. There's too many plot bunnies running around!

I was supposed to be learning how to juggle regular balls. Instead I know found myself fumbling flaming chainsaws!

So, here’s my thoughts. I’ve got some new ideas I want to try with this story, but that means some things are going to be changed around a bit. The civil war stuff will be scrapped and some events will be changed a bit, but main points of the story and the characters interactions will be the same. A bit cleaned up though, since this fic is getting very long in word and I don’t want to scare too many people away from it. If you see chapters appear and disappear, don’t panic! Like I said, I want to make this an awesome story, and sometimes things change.

So, if you have any comments, suggestions, or questions, feel free to leave them. Anything you want to see more of, less of, ideas for singular episodes or ways to make the plot run more smoothly?

Anyways, hope to be back in the saddle sooner rather than later!

Best,

GypsyReaper


End file.
